THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 

GIFT  OF 

Mrs.  Katharine  Auslende: 

and 
Mr.  L eland  Auslender 


lEtritton  lie  Htm 

Limited  to  Five  Hundred  Copies 

No...:. 


SIntfacrsitji  press 

JOHN    WlLbUN    AND   SON,    CAMBKIDGB 


ILLUSTRATIONS. 


PORTRAIT  OF  ESTHER  LYON Frontispiece 

Photo-etching  from  drawing  by  FREDERICK  DIELMAN. 

FELIX  HOLT  AND  JOB  TUDGE 231 

Original  etching  by  W.  H.  SHHLTON. 

FELIX  WOUNDED  IN  THE  RIOT 334 

Photo-etching  from  drawing  by  HENRY  SANDHAM. 

ESTHER  LYON  AND  HAROLD  TRANSOME 420 

Photo-etching  from  drawing  by  F.  CHILDB  HASSAM. 


FELIX   HOLT,   THE   RADICAL. 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 


INTKODUCTION. 

FIVE-AND-THIETY  years  ago  the  glory  had  not  yet  departed 
from  the  old  coach-roads :  the  great  roadside  inns  were  still 
brilliant  with  well-polished  tankards,  the  smiling  glances  of 
pretty  barmaids,  and  the  repartees  of  jocose  ostlers  ;  the  mail 
still  announced  itself  by  the  merry  notes  of  the  horn ;  the 
hedge-cutter  or  the  rick-thatcher  might  still  know  the  exact 
hour  by  the  unfailing  yet  otherwise  meteoric  apparition  of 
the  pea-green  Tally-ho  or  the  yellow  Independent ;  and  el- 
derly gentlemen  in  pony-chaises,  quartering  nervously  to  make 
way  for  the  rolling  swinging  swiftness,  had  not  ceased  to  re- 
mark that  times  were  finely  changed  since  they  xised  to  see 
the  pack-horses  and  hear  the  tinkling  of  their  bells  on  this 
very  highway. 

In  those  days  there  were  pocket  boroughs,  a  Birmingham 
unrepresented  in  Parliament  and  compelled  to  make  strong 
representations  out  of  it,  unrepealed  corn-laws,  three-and-six- 
penny  letters,  a  brawny  and  many-breeding  pauperism,  and 
other  departed  evils  ;  but  there  were  some  pleasant  things  too, 
which  have  also  departed.  Non  omnia  grandior  cetas  quce 
fuglamus  habet,  says  the  wise  goddess  :  you  have  not  the  best 
of  it  in  all  things,  0  youngsters  !  the  elderly  man  has  his  envia- 
ble memories,  and  not  the  least  of  them  is  the  memory  of  a 
long  journey  in  mid-spring  or  autumn  on  the  outside  of  a  stage- 
coach. Posterity  may  be  shot,  like  a  bullet  through  a  tube, 
by  atmospheric  pressure  from  Winchester  to  Newcastle  :  that 
is  a  fine  result  to  have  among  our  hopes  ;  but  the  slow  old- 
fashioned  way  of  getting  from  one  end  of  our  country  to  the 


4  FELIX  HOLT,   THE   RADICAL. 

other  is  the  better  thing  to  have  in  the  memory.  The  tube-jour- 
ney can  never  lend  much  to  picture  and  narrative ;  it  is  as  barren 
as  an  exclamatory  0 !  Whereas  the  happy  outside  passenger 
seated  on  the  box  from  the  dawn  to  the  gloaming  gathered 
enough  stories  of  English  life,  enough  of  English  labors  in 
town  and  country,  enough  aspects  of  earth  and  sky,  to  make 
episodes  for  a  modern  Odyssey.  Suppose  only  that  his  jour- 
ney took  him  through  that  central  plain,  watered  at  one 
extremity  by  the  Avon,  at  the  other  by  the  Trent.  As  the 
morning  silvered  the  meadows  with  their  long  lines  of  bushy 
willows  marking  the  watercourses,  or  burnished  the  golden 
corn-ricks  clustered  near  the  long  roofs  of  some  midland  home- 
stead, he  saw  the  full-uddered  cows  driven  from  their  pasture 
to  the  early  milking.  Perhaps  it  was  the  shepherd,  head- 
servant  of  the  farm,  who  drove  them,  his  sheep-dog  following 
with  a  heedless  unofficial  air  as  of  a  beadle  in  undress.  The 
shepherd  with  a  slow  and  slouching  walk,  timed  by  the  walk 
of  grazing  beasts,  moved  aside,  as  if  unwillingly,  throwing  out 
a  monosyllabic  hint  to  his  cattle;  his  glance,  accustomed  to 
rest  on  things  very  near  the  earth,  seemed  to  lift  itself  with 
difficulty  to  the  coachman.  Mail  or  stage  coach  for  him  be- 
longed to  that  mysterious  distant  system  of  things  called 
"  Gover'ment,"  which,  whatever  it  might  be,  was  no  business 
of  his,  any  more  than  the  most  outlying  nebula  or  the  coal- 
sacks  of  the  southern  hemisphere :  his  solar  system  was  the 
parish ;  the  master's  temper  and  the  casualties  of  lambing- 
time  were  his  region  of  storms.  He  cut  his  bread  and  bacon 
with  his  pocket-knife,  and  felt  no  bitterness  except  in  the 
matter  of  pauper  laborers  and  the  bad-luck  that  sent  contra- 
rious  seasons  and  the  sheep-rot.  He  and  his  cows  were  soon 
left  behind,  and  the  homestead  too,  with  its  pond  overhung  by 
elder-trees,  its  untidy  kitchen-garden  and  cone-shaped  yew- 
tree  arbor.  But  everywhere  the  bushy  hedgerows  wasted  the 
land  with  their  straggling  beauty,  shrouded  the  grassy  borders 
of  the  pastures  with  catkined  hazels,  and  tossed  their  long 
blackberry  branches  on  the  cornfields.  Perhaps  they  were 
white  with  May,  or  starred  with  pale  pink  dog-roses  ;  perhaps 
the  urchins  were  already  nutting  amongst  them,  or  gathering 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.          5 

the  plenteous  crabs.  It  was  worth  the  journey  only  to  see 
those  hedgerows,  the  liberal  homes  of  unmarketable  beauty  — 
of  the  purple-blossomed  ruby-berried  nightshade,  of  the  wild 
convolvulus  climbing  and  spreading  in  tendrilled  strength  till 
it  made  a  great  curtain  of  pale-green  hearts  and  white  trum- 
pets, of  the  many-tubed  honeysuckle  which,  in  its  most  deli- 
cate fragrance,  hid  a  charm  more  subtle  and  penetrating  than 
beauty.  Even  if  it  were  winter  the  hedgerows  showed  their 
coral,  the  scarlet  haws,  the  deep-crimson  hips,  with  lingering 
brown  leaves  to  make  a  resting-place  for  the  jewels  of  the 
hoar-frost.  Such  hedgerows  were  often  as  tall  as  the  laborers' 
cottages  dotted  along  the  lanes,  or  clustered  into  a  small  ham- 
let, their  little  dingy  windows  telling,  like  thick-filmed  eyes, 
of  nothing  but  the  darkness  within.  The  passenger  on  the 
coach-box,  bowled  along  above  such  a  hamlet,  saw  chiefly  the 
roofs  of  it :  probably  turned  its  back  on  the  road,  and  seemed 
to  lie  away  from  everything  but  its  own  patch  of  earth  and 
sky,  away  from  the  parish  church  by  long  fields  and  green 
lanes,  away  from  all  intercourse  except  that  of  tramps.  If  its 
face  could  be  seen,  it  was  most  likely  dirty  ;  but  the  dirt  was 
Protestant  dirt,  and  the  big,  bold,  gin-breathing  tramps  were 
Protestant  tramps.  There  was  no  sign  of  superstition  near, 
no  crucifix  or  image  to  indicate  a  misguided  reverence :  the 
inhabitants  were  probably  so  free  from  superstition  that  they 
were  in  much  less  awe  of  the  parson  than  of  the  overseer.  Yet 
they  were  saved  from  the  excesses  of  Protestantism  by  not 
knowing  how  to  read,  and  by  the  absence  of  handlooms  and 
mines  to  be  the  pioneers  of  Dissent :  they  were  kept  safely  in 
the  via  media  of  indifference,  and  could  have  registered  them- 
selves in  the  census  by  a  big  black  mark  as  members  of  the 
Church  of  England. 

But  there  were  trim  cheerful  villages  too,  with  a  neat  or 
handsome  parsonage  and  gray  church  set  in  the  midst ;  there 
was  the  pleasant  tinkle  of  the  blacksmith's  anvil,  the  patient 
cart  horses  waiting  at  his  door ;  the  basket-maker  peeling  his 
willow  wands  in  the  sunshine ;  the  wheelwright  putting  the 
last  touch  to  a  blue  cart  with  red  wheels ;  here  and  there  a 
cottage  with  bright  transparent  windows  showing  pots  full  of 


6  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL. 

blooming  balsams  or  geraniums,  and  little  gardens  in  front  all 
double  daisies  or  dark  wallflowers ;  at  the  well,  clean  and 
comely  women  carrying  yoked  buckets,  and  towards  the  free 
school  small  Britons  dawdling  on,  and  handling  their  marbles 
in  the  pockets  of  unpatched  corduroys  adorned  with  brass  but- 
tons. The  land  around  was  rich  and  marly,  great  corn-stalks 
stood  in  the  rick-yards  —  for  the  rick-burners  had  not  found 
their  way  hither  ;  the  homesteads  were  those  of  rich  farmers 
who  paid  no  rent,  or  had  the  rare  advantage  of  a  lease,  and 
could  afford  to  keep  their  corn  till  prices  had  risen.  The 
coach  would  be  sure  to  overtake  some  of  them  on  their  way 
to  their  outlying  fields  or  to  the  market-town,  sitting  heavily 
on  their  well-groomed  horses,  or  weighing  down  one  side  of 
an  olive-green  gig.  They  probably  thought  of  the  coach  with 
some  contempt,  as  an  accommodation  for  people  who  had  not 
their  own  gigs,  or  who,  wanting  to  travel  to  London  and  such 
distant  places,  belonged  to  the  trading  and  less  solid  part  of 
the  nation.  The  passenger  on  the  box  could  see  that  this  was 
the  district  of  protuberant  optimists,  sure  that  old  England 
was  the  best  of  all  possible  countries,  and  that  if  there  were 
any  facts  which  had  not  fallen  under  their  own  observation, 
they  were  facts  not  worth  observing  :  the  district  of  clean  little 
market-towns  without  manufactures,  of  fat  livings,  an  aristo- 
cratic clergy,  and  low  poor-rates.  But  as  the  day  wore  on  the 
scene  would  change  :  the  land  would  begin  to  be  blackened 
with  coal-pits,  the  rattle  of  handlooms  to  be  heard  in  hamlets 
and  villages.  Here  were  powerful  men  walking  queerly  with 
knees  bent  outward  from  squatting  in  the  mine,  going  home  to 
throw  themselves  down  in  their  blackened  flannel  and  sleep 
through  the  daylight,  then  rise  and  spend  much  of  their  high 
wages  at  the  ale-house  with  their  fellows  of  the  Benefit  Club  ; 
here  the  pale  eager  faces  of  handloom-weavers,  men  and  wo- 
men, haggard  from  sitting  up  late  at  night  to  finish  the  week's 
work,  hardly  begun  till  the  Wednesday.  Everywhere  the  cot- 
tages and  the  small  children  were  dirty,  for  the  languid  mothers 
gave  their  strength  to  the  loom ;  pious  Dissenting  women,  per- 
haps, who  took  life  patiently,  and  thought  that  salvation  de- 
pended chiefly  on  predestination,  and  not  at  all  on  cleanliness. 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.          7 

The  gables  of  Dissenting  chapels  now  made  a  visible  sign  of 
religion,  and  of  a  meeting-place  to  counterbalance  the  ale-house, 
even  in  the  hamlets ;  but  if  a  couple  of  old  termagants  were 
seen  tearing  each  other's  caps,  it  was  a  safe  conclusion  that, 
if  they  had  not  received  the  sacraments  of  the  Church,  they  had 
not  at  least  given  in  to  schismatic  rites,  and  were  free  from 
the  errors  of  Voluntaryism.  The  breath  of  the  manufacturing 
town,  which  made  a  cloudy  day  and  a  red  gloom  by  night  on 
the  horizon,  diffused  itself  over  all  the  surrounding  country, 
filling  the  air  with  eager  unrest.  Here  was  a  population  not 
convinced  that  old  England  was  as  good  as  possible;  here 
were  multitudinous  men  and  women  aware  that  their  religion 
was  not  exactly  the  religion  of  their  rulers,  who  might  there- 
fore be  better  than  they  were,  and  who,  if  better,  might  alter 
many  things  which  now  made  the  world  perhaps  more  painful 
than  it  need  be,  and  certainly  more  sinful.  Yet  there  were 
the  gray  steeples  too,  and  the  churchyards,  with  their  grassy 
mounds  and  venerable  headstones,  sleeping  in  the  sunlight ; 
there  were  broad  fields  and  homesteads,  and  fine  old  woods 
covering  a  rising  ground,  or  stretching  far  by  the  roadside, 
allowing  only  peeps  at  the  park  and  mansion  which  they  shut 
in  from  the  working-day  world.  In  these  midland  districts 
the  traveller  passed  rapidly  from  one  phase  of  English  life  to 
another :  after  looking  down  on  a  village  dingy  with  coal-dust, 
noisy  with  the  shaking  of  looms,  he  might  skirt  a  parish  all  of 
fields,  high  hedges,  and  deep-rutted  lanes ;  after  the  coach  had 
rattled  over  the  pavement  of  a  manufacturing  town,  the  scene 
of  riots  and  trades-union  meetings,  it  would  take  him  in  an- 
other ten  minutes  into  a  rural  region,  where  the  neighborhood 
of  the  town  was  only  felt  in  the  advantages  of  a  near  market 
for  corn,  cheese,  and  hay,  and  where  men  with  a  considerable 
banking  account  were  accustomed  to  say  that  "they  never 
meddled  with  politics  themselves."  The  busy  scenes  of  the 
shuttle  and  the  wheel,  of  the  roaring  furnace,  of  the  shaft  and 
the  pulley,  seemed  to  make  but  crowded  nests  in  the  midst  of 
the  large-spaced,  slow-moving  life  of  homesteads  and  far-away 
cottages  and  oak-sheltered  parks.  Looking  at  the  dwellings 
scattered  amongst  the  woody  flats  and  the  ploughed  uplands, 


8  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

under  the  low  gray  sky  which  overhung  them  with  an  unchang- 
ing stillness  as  if  Time  itself  were  pausing,  it  was  easy  for  the 
traveller  to  conceive  that  town  and  country  had  no  pulse  in 
common,  except  where  the  handlooms  made  a  far-reaching 
straggling  fringe  about  the  great  centres  of  manufacture  ;  that 
till  the  agitation  about  the  Catholics  in  '29,  rural  Englishmen 
had  hardly  known  more  of  Catholics  than  of  the  fossil  mam- 
mals ;  and  that  their  notion  of  Reform  was  a  confused  combi- 
nation of  rick-burners,  trades-unions,  Nottingham  riots,  and  in 
general  whatever  required  the  calling  out  of  the  yeomanry. 
It  was  still  easier  to  see  that,  for  the  most  part,  they  resisted 
the  rotation  of  crops  and  stood  by  their  fallows:  and  the 
coachman  would  perhaps  tell  how  in  one  parish  an  innovating 
farmer,  who  talked  of  Sir  Humphry  Davy,  had  been  fairly 
driven  out  by  popular  dislike,  as  if  he  had  been  a  confounded 
Kadical ;  and  how,  the  parson  having  one  Sunday  preached 
from  the  words,  "  Break  up  your  fallow-ground,"  the  people 
thought  he  had  made  the  text  out  of  his  own  head,  otherwise 
it  would  never  have  come  "  so  pat "  on  a  matter  of  business  ; 
but  when  they  found  it  in  the  Bible  at  home,  some  said  it  was 
an  argument  for  fallows  (else  why  should  the  Bible  mention 
fallows  ?),  but  a  few  of  the  weaker  sort  were  shaken,and  thought 
it  was  an  argument  that  fallows  should  be  done  away  with, 
else  the  Bible  would  have  said,  "  Let  your  fallows  lie ; "  and 
the  next  morning  the  parson  had  a  stroke  of  apoplexy,  which, 
as  coincident  with  a  dispute  about  fallows,  so  set  the  parish 
against  the  innovating  farmer  and  the  rotation  of  crops,  that  he 
could  stand  his  ground  no  longer,  and  transferred  his  lease. 

The  coachman  was  an  excellent  travelling  companion  and 
commentator  on  the  landscape  :  he  could  tell  the  names  of  sites 
and  persons,  and  explain  the  meaning  of  groups,  as  well  as  the 
shade  of  Virgil  in  a  more  memorable  journey ;  he  had  as  many 
stories  about  parishes,  and  the  men  and  women  in  them,  as 
the  Wanderer  in  the  "  Excursion,"  only  his  style  was  different. 
His  view  of  life  had  originally  been  genial,  and  such  as  became 
a  man  who  was  well  warmed  within  and  without,  and  held  a 
position  of  easy,  undisputed  authority ;  but  the  recent  initia- 
tion of  Railways  had  embittered  him  :  he  now,  as  in  a  perpetual 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  9 

vision,  saw  the  ruined  country  strewn  with  shattered  limbs,  and 
regarded  Mr.  Huskisson's  death  as  a  proof  of  God's  anger 
against  Stephenson.  "  Why,  every  inn  on  the  road  would  be 
shut  up ! "  and  at  that  word  the  coachman  looked  before  him 
with  the  blank  gaze  of  one  who  had  driven  his  coach  to  the 
outermost  edge  of  the  universe,  and  saw  his  leaders  plunging 
into  the  abyss.  Still  he  would  soon  relapse  from  the  high 
prophetic  strain  to  the  familiar  one  of  narrative.  He  knew 
whose  the  land  was  wherever  he  drove ;  what  noblemen  had 
half-ruined  themselves  by  gambling;  who  made  handsome 
returns  of  rent ;  and  who  was  at  daggers-drawn  with  his  eldest 
son.  He  perhaps  remembered  the  fathers  of  actual  baronets, 
arid  knew  stories  of  their  extravagant  or  stingy  housekeeping ; 
whom  they  had  married,  whom  they  had  horsewhipped,  whether 
they  were  particular  about  preserving  their  game,  and  whether 
they  had  had  much  to  do  with  canal  companies.  About  any 
actual  landed  proprietor  he  could  also  tell  whether  he  was  a 
Reformer  or  an  Anti-Reformer.  That  was  a  distinction  which 
had  "  turned  up  "  in  latter  times,  and  along  with  it  the  paradox, 
very  puzzling  to  the  coachman's  mind,  that  there  were  men  of 
old  family  and  large  estate  who  voted  for  the  Bill.  He  did 
not  grapple  with  the  paradox  ;  he  let  it  pass,  with  all  the  dis- 
creetness of  an  experienced  theologian  or  learned  scholiast,  pre- 
ferring to  point  his  whip  at  some  object  which  could  raise  no 
questions. 

No  such  paradox  troubled  our  coachman  when,  leaving  the 
town  of  Treby  Magna  behind  him,  he  drove  between  the  hedges 
for  a  mile  or  so,  crossed  the  queer  long  bridge  over  the  river 
Lapp,  and  then  put  his  horses  to  a  swift  gallop  up  the  hill 
by  the  low-nestled  village  of  Little  Treby,  till  they  were  on 
the  fine  level  road,  skirted  on  one  side  by  grand  larches, 
oaks,  and  wych  elms,  which  sometimes  opened  so  far  as  to  let 
the  traveller  see  that  there  was  a  park  behind  them. 

How  many  times  in  the  year,  as  the  coach  rolled  past  the 
neglectecl-looking  lodges  which  interrupted  the  screen  of  trees, 
and  showed  the  river  winding  through  a  finely-timbered  park, 
had  the  coachman  answered  the  same  questions,  or  told  the 
same  things  without  being  questioned  !  That  ?  —  oh,  that  was 


10  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

Transome  Court,  a  place  there  had  been  a  fine  sight  of  lawsuits 
about.  Generations  back,  the  heir  of  the  Transome  name  had 
somehow  bargained  away  the  estate,  and  it  fell  to  the  Durfeys, 
very  distant  connections,  who  only  called  themselves  Tran- 
somes  because  they  had  got  the  estate.  But  the  Durfeys'  claim 
had  been  disputed  over  and  over  again ;  and  the  coachman,  if 
he  had  been  asked,  would  have  said,  though  he  might  have 
to  fall  down  dead  the  next  minute,  that  property  did  n't  always 
get  into  the  right  hands.  However,  the  lawyers  had  found 
their  luck  in  it ;  and  people  who  inherited  estates  that  were 
lawed  about  often  lived  in  them  as  poorly  as  a  mouse  in  a  hol- 
low cheese ;  and,  by  what  he  could  make  out,  that  had  been 
the  way  with  these  present  Durfeys,  or  Transomes,  as  they 
called  themselves.  As  for  Mr.  Transome,  he  was  as  poor,  half- 
witted a  fellow  as  you  'd  wish  to  see  ;  but  she  was  master,  had 
come  of  a  high  family,  and  had  a  spirit  —  you  might  see  it  in 
her  eye  and  the  way  she  sat  her  horse.  Forty  years  ago,  when 
she  came  into  this  country,  they  said  she  was  a  pictur' ;  but 
her  family  was  poor,  and  so  she  took  up  with  a  hatchet-faced 
fellow  like  this  Transome.  And  the  eldest  son  had  been  just 
such  another  as  his  father,  only  worse  —  a  wild  sort  of  half- 
natural,  who  got  into  bad  company.  They  said  his  mother 
hated  him  and  wished  him  dead ;  for  she  'd  got  another  son, 
quite  of  a  different  cut,  who  had  gone  to  foreign  parts  when  he 
was  a  youngster,  and  she  wanted  her  favorite  to  be  heir.  But 
heir  or  no  heir,  Lawyer  Jermyn  had  had  his  picking  out  of  the 
estate.  Not  a  door  in  his  big  house  but  what  was  the  finest 
polished  oak,  all  got  off  the  Transome  estate.  If  anybody 
liked  to  believe  he  paid  for  it,  they  were  welcome.  However, 
Lawyer  Jermyn  had  sat  on  that  box-seat  many  and  many  a 
time.  He  had  made  the  wills  of  most  people  thereabout.  The 
coachman  would  not  say  that  Lawyer  Jermyn  was  not  the  man 
he  would  choose  to  make  his  own  will  some  day.  It  was  not 
so  well  for  a  lawyer  to  be  over-honest,  else  he  might  not  be  up 
to  other  people's  tricks.  And  as  for  the  Transome  business, 
there  had  been  ins  and  outs  in  time  gone  by,  so  that  you 
could  n't  look  into  it  straight  backward.  At  this  Mr.  Sampson 
(everybody  in  North  Loamshire  knew  Sampson's  coach)  would 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  11 

screw  his  features  into  a  grimace  expressive  of  entire  neutrality, 
and  appear  to  aim  his  whip  at  a  particular  spot  on  the  horse's 
flank.  If  the  passenger  was  curious  for  further  knowledge 
concerning  the  Transome  affairs,  Sampson  would  shake  his  head 
and  say  there  had  been  fine  stories  in  his  time  ;  but  he  never 
condescended  to  state  what  the  stories  were.  Some  attributed 
this  reticence  to  a  wise  incredulity,  others  to  a  want  of  memory, 
others  to  simple  ignorance.  But  at  least  Sampson  was  right 
in  saying  that  there  had  been  fine  stories  —  meaning,  ironically, 
stories  not  altogether  creditable  to  the  parties  concerned. 

And  such  stories  often  come  to  be  fine  in  a  sense  that  is 
not  ironical.  For  there  is  seldom  any  wrong-doing  which 
does  not  carry  along  with  it  some  downfall  of  blindly  climbing 
hopes,  some  hard  entail  of  suffering,  some  quickly  satiated 
desire  that  survives,  with  the  life  in  death  of  old  paralytic 
vice,  to  see  itself  cursed  by  its  wof ul  progeny  —  some  tragic 
mark  of  kinship  in  the  one  brief  life  to  the  far-stretching 
life  that  went  before,  and  to  the  life  that  is  to  come  after, 
such  as  has  raised  the  pity  and  terror  of  men  ever  since 
they  began  to  discern  between  will  and  destiny.  But  these 
things  are  often  unknown  to  the  world ;  for  there  is  much  pain 
that  is  quite  noiseless ;  and  vibrations  that  make  human  ago- 
nies are  often  a  mere  whisper  in  the  roar  of  hurrying  exist- 
ence. There  are  glances  of  hatred  that  stab  and  raise  no  cry 
of  murder ;  robberies  that  leave  man  or  woman  forever  beg- 
gared of  peace  and  joy,  yet  kept  secret  by  the  sufferer  —  com- 
mitted to  no  sound  except  that  of  low  moans  in  the  night,  seen 
in  no  writing  except  that  made  on  the  face  by  the  slow  months 
of  suppressed  anguish  and  early  morning  tears.  Many  an  in- 
herited sorrow  that  has  marred  a  life  has  been  breathed  into 
no  human  ear. 

The  poets  have  told  us  of  a  dolorous  enchanted  forest  in  the 
underworld.  The  thorn-bushes  there,  and  the  thick-barked 
stems,  have  human  histories  hidden  in  them  ;  the  power  of  un- 
uttered  cries  dwells  in  the  passionless-seeming  branches,  and 
the  red  warm  blood  is  darkly  feeding  the  quivering  nerves  of 
a  sleepless  memory  that  watches  through  all  dreams.  These 
things  are  a  parable. 


12  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 


CHAPTER  I. 

He  left  me  when  the  down  upon  his  lip 

Lay  like  the  shadow  of  a  hovering  kiss. 

"  Beautiful  mother,  do  not  grieve,"  he  said ; 

"  I  will  be  great,  and  build  our  fortunes  high, 

And  you  shall  wear  the  longest  train  at  court, 

And  look  so  queenly,  all  the  lords  shall  say, 

'  She  is  a  royal  changeling  :  there  'a  some  crown 

Lacks  the  right  head,  since  hers  wears  nought  but  braids.' " 

Oh,  he  is  coming  now  —  but  I  am  gray : 

And  he  — 

ON  the  1st  of  September,  in  the  memorable  year  1832,  some 
one  was  expected  at  Transome  Court.  As  early  as  two  o'clock 
in  the  afternoon  the  aged  lodge-keeper  had  opened  the  heavy 
gate,  green  as  the  tree  trunks  were  green  with  nature's  powdery 
paint,  deposited  year  after  year.  Already  in  the  village  of 
Little  Treby,  which  lay  on  the  side  of  a  steep  hill  not  far  off 
the  lodge  gates,  the  elder  matrons  sat  in  their  best  gowns  at 
the  few  cottage  doors  bordering  the  road,  that  they  might  be 
ready  to  get  up  and  make  their  curtsy  when  a  travelling  car- 
riage should  come  in  sight;  and  beyond  the  village  several 
small  boys  were  stationed  on  the  lookout,  intending  to  run  a 
race  to  the  barn-like  old  church,  where  the  sexton  waited  in  the 
belfry  ready  to  set  the  one  bell  in  joyful  agitation  just  at  the 
right  moment. 

The  old  lodge-keeper  had  opened  the  gate  and  left  it  in 
the  charge  of  his  lame  wife,  because  he  was  wanted  at  the 
Court  to  sweep  away  the  leaves,  and  perhaps  to  help  in  the 
stables.  For  though  Transome  Court  was  a  large  mansion, 
built  in  the  fashion  of  Queen  Anne's  time,  with  a  park  and 
grounds  as  fine  as  any  to  be  seen  in  Loamshire,  there  were 
very  few  servants  about  it.  Especially,  it  seemed,  there  must 
be  a  lack  of  gardeners  ;  for,  except  on  the  terrace  surrounded 
with  a  stone  parapet  in  front  of  the  house,  where  there  was  a 


FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL.  13 

parterre  kept  with  some  neatness,  grass  had  spread  itself  over 
the  gravel  walks,  and  over  all  the  low  mounds  once  carefully 
cut  as  black  beds  for  the  shrubs  and  larger  plants.  Many  of 
the  windows  had  the  shutters  closed,  and  under  the  grand 
Scotch  fir  that  stooped  towards  one  corner,  the  brown  fir- 
needles of  many  years  lay  in  a  small  stone  balcony  in  front 
of  two  such  darkened  windows.  All  round,  both  near  and 
far,  there  were  grand  trees,  motionless  in  the  still  sunshine, 
and,  like  all  large  motionless  things,  seeming  to  add  to  the 
stillness.  Here  and  there  a  leaf  fluttered  down ;  petals  fell 
in  a  silent  shower ;  a  heavy  moth  floated  by,  and,  when  it 
settled,  seemed  to  fall  wearily  ;  the  tiny  birds  alighted  on  the 
walks,  and  hopped  about  in  perfect  tranquillity  ;  even  a  stray 
rabbit  sat  nibbling  a  leaf  that  was  to  its  liking,  in  the  middle 
of  a  grassy  space,  with  an  air  that  seemed  quite  impudent  in 
so  timid  a  creature.  No  sound  was  to  be  heard  louder  than 
a  sleepy  hum,  and  the  soft  monotony  of  running  water  hurry- 
ing on  to  the  river  that  divided  the  park.  Standing  on  the 
south  or  east  side  of  the  house,  you  would  never  have  guessed 
that  an  arrival  was  expected. 

But  on  the  west  side,  where  the  carriage  entrance  was,  the 
gates  under  the  stone  archway  were  thrown  open ;  and  so  was 
the  double  door  of  the  entrance-hall,  letting  in  the  warm  light 
on  the  scagliola  pillars,  the  marble  statues,  and  the  broad 
stone  staircase,  with  its  matting  worn  into  large  holes.  And, 
stronger  sign  of  expectation  than  all,  from  one  of  the  doors 
which  surrounded  the  entrance-hall,  there  came  forth  from 
time  to  time  a  lady,  who  walked  lightly  over  the  polished 
stone  floor,  and  stood  on  the  door-steps  and  watched  and  lis- 
tened. She  walked  lightly,  for  her  figure  was  slim  and  finely 
formed,  though  she  was  between  fifty  and  sixty.  She  was 
a  tall,  proud-looking  woman,  with  abundant  gray  hair,  dark 
eyes  and  eyebrows,  and  a  somewhat  eagle-like  yet  not  unfemi- 
nine  face.  Her  tight-fitting  black  dress  was  much  worn  ;  the 
fine  lace  of  her  cuffs  and  collar,  and  of  the  small  veil  which 
fell  backwards  over  her  high  comb,  was  visibly  mended ;  but 
rare  jewels  flashed  on  her  hands,  which  lay  on  her  folded 
black-clad  arms  like  finely  cut  onyx  cameos. 


14  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL. 

Many  times  Mrs.  Transome  went  to  the  door-steps,  watch- 
ing and  listening  in  vain.  Each  time  she  returned  to  the 
same  room :  it  was  a  moderate-sized  comfortable  room,  with 
low  ebony  bookshelves  round  it,  and  it  formed  an  anteroom 
to  a  large  library,  of  which  a  glimpse  could  be  seen  through 
an  open  doorway,  partly  obstructed  by  a  heavy  tapestry  cur- 
tain drawn  on  one  side.  There  was  a  great  deal  of  tarnished 
gilding  and  dinginess  on  the  walls  and  furniture  of  this  smaller 
room,  but  the  pictures  above  the  bookcases  were  all  of  a  cheer- 
ful kind :  portraits  in  pastel  of  pearly-skinned  ladies  with 
hair-powder,  blue  ribbons,  and  low  bodices ;  a  splendid  por- 
trait in  oils  of  a  Transome  in  the  gorgeous  dress  of  the 
Restoration  ;  another  of  a  Transome  in  his  boyhood,  with  his 
hand  on  the  neck  of  a  small  pony;  and  a  large  Flemish 
battle-piece,  where  war  seemed  only  a  picturesque  blue-and- 
red  accident  in  a  vast  sunny  expanse  of  plain  and  sky.  Prob- 
ably such  cheerful  pictures  had  been  chosen  because  this  was 
Mrs.  Transome's  usual  sitting-room  :  it  was  certainly  for  this 
reason  that,  near  the  chair  in  which  she  seated  herself  each 
time  she  re-entered,  there  hung  a  picture  of  a  youthful  face 
which  bore  a  strong  resemblance  to  her  own  :  a  beardless  but 
masculine  face,  with  rich  brown  hair  hanging  low  on  the  fore- 
head, and  undulating  beside  each  cheek  down  to  the  loose 
white  cravat.  Near  this  same  chair  were  her  writing-table, 
with  vellum-covered  account-books  on  it,  the  cabinet  in  which 
she  kept  her  neatly  arranged  drugs,  her  basket  for  her  em- 
broidery, a  folio  volume  of  architectural  engravings  from  which 
she  took  her  embroidery  patterns,  a  number  of  the  "  North 
Loamshire  Herald,"  and  the  cushion  for  her  fat  Blenheim, 
which  was  too  old  and  sleepy  to  notice  its  mistress's  restless- 
ness. For,'  just  now,  Mrs.  Transome  could  not  abridge  the 
sunny  tedium  of  the  day  by  the  feeble  interest  of  her  usual 
indoor  occupations.  Her  consciousness  was  absorbed  by 
memories  and  prospects,  and  except  when  she  walked  to  the 
entrance-door  to  look  out,  she  sat  motionless  with  folded  arms, 
involuntarily  from  time  to  time  turning  towards  the  portrait 
close  by  her,  and  as  often,  when  its  young  brown  eyes  met 
hers,  turning  away  again  with  self-checking  resolution. 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  15 

At  last,  prompted  by  some  sudden  thought  or  by  some 
sound,  she  rose  and  went  hastily  beyond  the  tapestry  curtain 
into  the  library.  She  paused  near  the  door  without  speaking : 
apparently  she  only  wished  to  see  that  no  harm  was  being 
done.  A  man  nearer  seventy  than  sixty  was  in  the  act  of 
ranging  on  a  large  library-table  a  series  of  shallow  drawers, 
some  of  them  containing  dried  insects,  others  mineralogical 
specimens.  His  pale  mild  eyes,  receding  lower  jaw,  and  slight 
frame,  could  never  have  expressed  much  vigor,  either  bodily  or 
mental ;  but  he  had  now  the  unevenness  of  gait  and  feebleness 
of  gesture  which  tell  of  a  past  paralytic  seizure.  His  thread- 
bare clothes  were  thoroughly  brushed;  his  soft  white  hair 
was  carefully  parted  and  arranged :  he  was  not  a  neglected- 
looking  old  man ;  and  at  his  side  a  fine  black  retriever,  also 
old,  sat  on  its  haunches,  and  watched  him  as  he  went  to  and 
fro.  But  when  Mrs.  Transome  appeared  within  the  doorway, 
her  husband  paused  in  his  work  and  shrank  like  a  timid 
animal  looked  at  in  a  cage  where  flight  is  impossible.  He 
was  conscious  of  a  troublesome  intention,  for  which  he  had 
been  rebuked  before  —  that  of  disturbing  all  his  specimens 
with  a  view  to  a  new  arrangement. 

After  an  interval,  in  which  his  wife  stood  perfectly  still, 
observing  him,  he  began  to  put  back  the  drawers  in  their 
places  in  the  row  of  cabinets  which  extended  under  the  book- 
shelves at  one  end  of  the  library.  When  they  were  all  put 
back  and  closed,  Mrs.  Transome  turned  away,  and  the  fright- 
ened old  man  seated  himself  with  Nimrod  the  retriever  on  an 
ottoman.  Peeping  at  him  again,  a  few  minutes  after,  she  saw 
that  he  had  his  arm  round  Nimrod's  neck,  and  was  uttering 
his  thoughts  to  the  dog  in  a  loud  whisper,  as  little  children 
do  to  any  object  near  them  when  they  believe  themselves 
unwatched. 

At  last  the  sound  of  the  church-bell  reached  Mrs.  Transome's 
ear,  and  she  knew  that  before  long  the  sound  of  wheels  must 
be  within  hearing ;  but  she  did  not  at  once  start  up  and  walk 
to  the  entrance-door.  She  sat  still,  quivering  and  listening ; 
her  lips  became  pale,  her  hands  were  cold  and  trembling. 
Was  her  son  really  coming  ?  She  was  far  beyond  fifty ;  and 


16  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL. 

since  her  early  gladness  in  this  best-loved  boy,  the  harvests  of 
her  life  had  been  scanty.  Could  it  be  that  now  —  when  her 
hair  was  gray,  when  sight  had  become  one  of  the  day's 
fatigues,  when  her  young  accomplishments  seemed  almost 
ludicrous,  like  the  tone  of  her  first  harpsichord  and  the  words 
of  the  songs  long  browned  with  age  —  she  was  going  to  reap 
an  assured  joy  ?  —  to  feel  that  the  doubtful  deeds  of  her  life 
were  justified  by  the  result,  since  a  kind  Providence  had  sanc- 
tioned them  ?  —  to  be  no  longer  tacitly  pitied  by  her  neighbors 
for  her  lack  of  money,  her  imbecile  husband,  her  graceless 
eldest-born,  and  the  loneliness  of  her  life  ;  but  to  have  at  her 
side  a  rich,  clever,  possibly  a  tender,  son  ?  Yes ;  but  there 
were  the  fifteen  years  of  separation,  and  all  that  had  happened 
in  that  long  time  to  throw  her  into  the  background  in  her 
son's  memory  and  affection.  And  yet  —  did  not  men  some- 
times become  more  filial  in  their  feeling  when  experience  had 
mellowed  them,  and  they  had  themselves  become  fathers  ? 
Still,  if  Mrs.  Transome  had  expected  only  her  son,  she  would 
have  trembled  less ;  she  expected  a  little  grandson  also :  and 
there  were  reasons  why  she  had  not  been  enraptured  when 
her  son  had  written  to  her  only  when  he  was  on  the  eve  of 
returning  that  he  already  had  an  heir  born  to  him. 

But  the  facts  must  be  accepted  as  they  stood,  and,  after  all, 
the  chief  thing  was  to  have  her  son  back  again.  Such  pride, 
such  affection,  such  hopes  as  she  cherished  in  this  fifty-sixth 
year  of  her  life,  must  find  their  gratification  in  him  —  or  no- 
where. Once  more  she  glanced  at  the  portrait.  The  young 
brown  eyes  seemed  to  dwell  on  her  pleasantly ;  but,  turning 
from  it  with  a  sort  of  impatience,  and  saying  aloud,  "  Of  course 
he  will  be  altered ! "  she  rose  almost  with  difficulty,  and 
walked  more  slowly  than  before  across  the  hall  to  the 
entrance-door. 

Already  the  sound  of  wheels  was  loud  upon  the  gravel.  The 
momentary  surprise  of  seeing  that  it  was  only  a  post-chaise, 
without  a  servant  or  much  luggage,  that  was  passing  under 
the  stone  archway  and  then  wheeling  round  against  the  flight 
of  stone  steps,  was  at  once  merged  in  the  sense  that  there  was 
a  dark  face  under  a  red  travelling-cap  looking  at  her  from  the 


FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL.  17 

window.  She  saw  nothing  else ;  she  was  not  even  conscious 
that  the  small  group  of  her  own  servants  had  mustered,  or 
that  old  Hickes  the  butler  had  come  forward  to  open  the 
chaise-door.  She  heard  herself  called  "  Mother  ! "  and  felt  a 
light  kiss  on  each  cheek  ;  but  stronger  than  all  that  sensation 
was  the  consciousness  which  no  previous  thought  could  pre- 
pare her  for,  that  this  son  who  had  come  back  to  her  was  a 
stranger.  Three  minutes  before,  she  had  fancied  that,  in  spite 
of  all  changes  wrought  by  fifteen  years  of  separation,  she 
should  clasp  her  son  again  as  she  had  done  at  their  parting ; 
but  in  the  moment  when  their  eyes  met,  the  sense  of  strange- 
ness came  upon  her  like  a  terror.  It  was  not  hard  to  under- 
stand that  she  was  agitated,  and  the  son  led  her  across  the 
hall  to  the  sitting-room,  closing  the  door  behind  them.  Then 
he  turned  towards  her  and  said,  smiling  — 

"  You  would  not  have  known  me,  eh,  mother  ?  " 

It  was  perhaps  the  truth.  If  she  had  seen  him  in  a  crowd, 
she  might  have  looked  at  him  without  recognition  —  not, 
however,  without  startled  wonder ;  for  though  the  likeness  to 
herself  was  no  longer  striking,  the  years  had  overlaid  it  with 
another  likeness  which  would  have  arrested  her.  Before  she 
answered  him,  his  eyes,  with  a  keen  restlessness,  as  unlike  as 
possible  to  the  lingering  gaze  of  the  portrait,  had  travelled 
quickly  over  the  room,  alighting  on  her  again  as  she  said  — 

"  Everything  is  changed,  Harold.  I  am  an  old  woman,  you 
see." 

"  But  straighter  and  more  upright  than  some  of  the  young 
ones  ! "  said  Harold  ;  inwardly,  however,  feeling  that  age  had 
made  his  mother's  face  very  anxious  and  eager.  "The  old 
women  at  Smyrna  are  like  sacks.  You  've  not  got  clumsy  and 
shapeless.  How  is  it  I  have  the  trick  of  getting  fat  ?  "  (Here 
Harold  lifted  his  arm  and  spread  out  his  plump  hand.)  "  I 
remember  my  father  was  as  thin  as  a  herring.  How  is  my 
father  ?  Where  is  he  ?  " 

Mrs.  Transome  just  pointed  to  the  curtained  doorway,  and 
let  her  son  pass  through  it  alone.  She  was  not  given  to  tears ; 
but  now,  under  the  pressure  of  emotion  that  could  find  no 
other  vent,  they  burst  forth.  She  took  care  that  they  should 

VOL.    III.  2 


18  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

be  silent  tears,  and  before  Harold  came  out  of  the  library 
again  they  were  dried.  Mrs.  Transome  had  not  the  feminine 
tendency  to  seek  influence  through  pathos ;  she  had  been  used 
to  rule  in  virtue  of  acknowledged  superiority.  The  conscious- 
ness that  she  had  to  make  her  son's  acquaintance,  and  that  her 
knowledge  of  the  youth  of  nineteen  might  help  her  little  in 
interpreting  the  man  of  thirty-four,  had  fallen  like  lead  on  her 
soul ;  but  in  this  new  acquaintance  of  theirs  she  cared  espe- 
cially that  her  son,  who  had  seen  a  strange  world,  should  feel 
that  he  was  come  home  to  a  mother  who  was  to  be  consulted 
on  all  things,  and  who  could  supply  his  lack  of  the  local  ex- 
perience necessary  to  an  English  landholder.  Her  part  in  life 
had  been  that  of  the  clever  sinner,  and  she  was  equipped  with 
the  views,  the  reasons,  and  the  habits  which  belonged  to  that 
character  :  life  would  have  little  meaning  for  her  if  she  were 
to  be  gently  thrust  aside  as  a  harmless  elderly  woman.  And 
besides,  there  were  secrets  which  her  son  must  never  know. 
So,  by  the  time  Harold  came  from  the  library  again,  the  traces 
of  tears  were  not  discernible,  except  to  a  very  careful  observer. 
And  he  did  not  observe  his  mother  carefully ;  his  eyes  only 
glanced  at  her  on  their  way  to  the  "  North  Loamshire  Herald," 
lying  on  the  table  near  her,  which  he  took  up  with  his  left 
hand,  as  he  said  — 

"  Gad  !  what  a  wreck  poor  father  is  !  Paralysis,  eh  ?  Ter- 
ribly shrunk  and  shaken  —  crawls  about  among  his  books  and 
beetles  as  usual,  though.  Well,  it's  a  slow  and  easy  death. 
But  he 's  not  much  over  sixty -five,  is  he  ?  " 

"  Sixty-seven,  counting  by  birthdays ;  but  your  father  was 
born  old,  I  think,"  said  Mrs.  Transome,  a  little  flushed  with 
the  determination  not  to  show  any  unasked-for  feeling. 

Her  son  did  not  notice  her.  All  the  time  he  had  been 
speaking  his  eyes  had  been  running  down  the  columns  of  the 
newspaper. 

"  But  your  little  boy,  Harold  —  where  is  he  ?  How  is  it  he 
has  not  come  with  you  ?  " 

"  Oh,  I  left  him  behind,  in  town,"  said  Harold,  still  looking 
at  the  paper.  "My  man  Dominic  will  bring  him,  with  the 
rest  of  the  luggage.  Ah,  I  see  it  is  young  Debarry,  and  not 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  19 

my  old  friend,  Sir  Maxiinus,  who  is  offering  himself  as 
candidate  for  North  Loamshire." 

"  Yes.  You  did  not  answer  me  when  I  wrote  to  you  to  Lon- 
don about  your  standing.  There  is  no  other  Tory  candidate 
spoken  of,  and  you  would  have  all  the  Debarry  interest." 

"  I  hardly  think  that,"  said  Harold,  significantly. 

"  Why  ?  Jermyn  says  a  Tory  candidate  can  never  be  got  in 
without  it." 

"  But  I  shall  not  be  a  Tory  candidate." 

Mrs.  Transome  felt  something  like  an  electric  shock. 

"What  then?"  she  said,  almost  sharply.  "You  will  not 
call  yourself  a  Whig?" 

"  God  forbid !    I  'm  a  Eadical." 

Mrs.  Transome's  limbs  tottered ;  she  sank  into  a  chair. 
Here  was  a  distinct  confirmation  of  the  vague  but  strong 
feeling  that  her  son  was  a  stranger  to  her.  Here  was  a  reve- 
lation to  which  it  seemed  almost  as  impossible  to  adjust  her 
hopes  and  notions  of  a  dignified  life  as  if  her  son  had  said 
that  he  had  been  converted  to  Mahometanism  at  Smyrna,  and 
had  four  wives,  instead  of  one  son,  shortly  to  arrive  under  the 
care  of  Dominic.  For  the  moment  she  had  a  sickening  feeling 
that  it  was  all  of  no  use  that  the  long-delayed  good  fortune 
had  come  at  last  —  all  of  no  use  though  the  unloved  Durf ey 
was  dead  and  buried,  and  though  Harold  had  come  home  with 
plenty  of  money.  There  were  rich  Radicals,  she  was  aware, 
as  there  were  rich  Jews  and  Dissenters,  but  she  had  never 
thought  of  them  as  county  people.  Sir  Francis  Burdett  had 
been  generally  regarded  as  a  madman.  It  was  better  to  ask 
no  questions,  but  silently  to  prepare  herself  for  anything  else 
there  might  be  to  come. 

"Will  you  go  to  your  rooms,  Harold,  and  see  if  there  is 
anything  you  would  like  to  have  altered  ?  " 

"Yes,  let  us  go,"  said  Harold,  throwing  down  the  news- 
paper, in  which  he  had  been  rapidly  reading  almost  every 
advertisement  while  his  mother  had  been  going  through  her 
sharp  inward  struggle.  "  Uncle  Lingon  is  on  the  bench  still, 
I  see,"  he  went  on,  as  he  followed  her  across  the  hall ;  "  is  he 
at  home  —  will  he  be  here  this  evening  ?  " 


20  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL. 

"  He  says  you  must  go  to  the  Rectory  when  you  want  to 
see  him.  You  must  remember  you  have  come  back  to  a  fam- 
ily who  have  old-fashioned  notions.  Your  uncle  thought  I 
ought  to  have  you  to  myself  in  the  first  hour  or  two.  He 
remembered  that  I  had  not  seen  my  son  for  fifteen  years." 

"  Ah,  by  Jove !  fifteen  years  —  so  it  is  ! "  said  Harold,  tak- 
ing his  mother's  hand  and  drawing  it  under  his  arm ;  for  he 
had  perceived  that  her  words  were  charged  with  an  intention. 
"  And  you  are  as  straight  as  an  arrow  still ;  you  will  carry  the 
shawls  I  have  brought  you  as  well  as  ever." 

They  walked  up  the  broad  stone  steps  together  in  silence. 
Under  the  shock  of  discovering  her  son's  Radicalism,  Mrs. 
Transome  had  no  impulse  to  say  one  thing  rather  than  an- 
other ;  as  in  a  man  who  had  just  been  branded  on  the  forehead 
all  wonted  motives  would  be  uprooted.  Harold,  on  his  side, 
had  no  wish  opposed  to  filial  kindness,  but  his  busy  thoughts 
were  imperiously  determined  by  habits  which  had  no  refer- 
ence to  any  woman's  feeling ;  and  even  if  he  could  have  con- 
ceived what  his  mother's  feeling  was,  his  mind,  after  that 
momentary  arrest,  would  have  darted  forward  on  its  usual 
course. 

"I  have  given  you  the  south  rooms,  Harold,"  said  Mrs. 
Transome,  as  they  passed  along  a  corridor  lit  from  above,  and 
lined  with  old  family  pictures.  "  I  thought  they  would  suit 
you  best,  as  they  all  open  into  each  other,  and  this  middle  one 
will  make  a  pleasant  sitting-room  for  you." 

"  Gad !  the  furniture  is  in  a  bad  state,"  said  Harold,  glanc- 
ing round  at  the  middle  room  which  they  had  just  entered ; 
"  the  moths  seem  to  have  got  into  the  carpets  and  hangings." 

"  I  had  no  choice  except  moths  or  tenants  who  would  pay 
rent,"  said  Mrs.  Transome.  "  We  have  been  too  poor  to  keep 
servants  for  uninhabited  rooms." 

"  What !  you  've  been  rather  pinched,  eh  ?  " 

"You  find  us  living  as  we  have  been  living  these  twelve 
years." 

"  Ah,  you  've  had  Durf ey's  debts  as  well  as  the  lawsuits  — 
confound  them !  It  will  make  a  hole  in  sixty  thousand  pounds 
to  pay  off  the  mortgages.  However,  he's  gone  now,  poor 


FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL.  21 

fellow ;  and  I  suppose  I  should  have  spent  more  in  buying  an 
English  estate  some  time  or  other.  I  always  meant  to  be  an 
Englishman,  and  thrash  a  lord  or  two  who  thrashed  me  at 
Eton." 

"  I  hardly  thought  you  could  have  meant  that,  Harold,  when 
I  found  you  had  married  a  foreign  wife." 

"  Would  you  have  had  me  wait  for  a  consumptive  lackadai- 
sical Englishwoman,  who  would  have  hung  all  her  relations 
round  my  neck  ?  I  hate  English  wives ;  they  want  to  give 
their  opinion  about  everything.  They  interfere  with  a  man's 
life.  I  shall  not  marry  again." 

Mrs.  Transome  bit  her  lip,  and  turned  away  to  draw  up  a 
blind.  She  would  not  reply  to  words  which  showed  how  com- 
pletely any  conception  of  herself  and  her  feelings  was  excluded 
from  her  son's  inward  world. 

As  she  turned  round  again  she  said,  "  I  suppose  you  have 
been  used  to  great  luxury  ;  these  rooms  look  miserable  to  you, 
but  you  can  soon  make  any  alteration  you  like." 

"  Oh.  I  must  have  a  private  sitting-room  fitted  up  for  myself 
down-stairs.  And  the  rest  are  bedrooms,  I  suppose,"  he  went 
on,  opening  a  side-door.  "  Ah,  I  can  sleep  here  a  night  or  two. 
But  there  's  a  bedroom  down-stairs,  with  an  anteroom,  I  re- 
member, that  would  do  for  my  man  Dominic  and  the  little 
boy.  I  should  like  to  have  that." 

"  Your  father  has  slept  there  for  years.  He  will  be  like  a 
distracted  insect,  and  never  know  where  to  go,  if  you  alter  the 
track  he  has  to  walk  in." 

"  That 's  a  pity.     I  hate  going  up-stairs." 

"  There  is  the  steward's  room  :  it  is  not  used,  and  might  be 
turned  into  a  bedroom.  I  can't  offer  you  my  room,  for  I  sleep 
up-stairs."  (Mrs.  Transome's  tongue  could  be  a  whip  upon 
occasion,  but  the  lash  had  not  fallen  on  a  sensitive  spot.) 

"  No ;  I  'm  determined  not  to  sleep  up-stairs.  We  '11  see 
about  the  steward's  room  to-morrow,  and  I  dare  say  I  shall  find 
a  closet  of  some  sort  for  Dominic.  It 's  a  nuisance  he  had 
to  stay  behind,  for  I  shall  have  nobody  to  cook  for  me.  Ah, 
there  's  the  old  river  I  used  to  fish  in.  I  often  thought,  when 
I  was  at  Smyrna,  that  I  would  buy  a  park  with  a  river  through 


22  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

it  as  much  like  the  Lapp  as  possible.  Gad,  what  fine  oaks 
those  are  opposite  !  Some  of  them  must  come  down,  though." 

"  I  've  held  every  tree  sacred  on  the  demesne,  as  I  told  you, 
Harold.  I  trusted  to  your  getting  the  estate  some  time,  and 
releasing  it ;  and  I  determined  to  keep  it  worth  releasing. 
A  park  without  fine  timber  is  no  better  than  a  beauty  without 
teeth  and  hair." 

"  Bravo,  mother ! "  said  Harold,  putting  his  hand  on  her 
shoulder.  "  Ah,  you  've  had  to  worry  yourself  about  things 
that  don't  properly  belong  to  a  woman  —  my  father  being 
weakly.  We  '11  set  all  that  right.  You  shall  have  nothing  to 
do  now  but  to  be  grandmamma  on  satin  cushions." 

"  You  must  excuse  me  from  the  satin  cushions.  That  is  a 
part  of  the  old  woman's  duty  I  am  not  prepared  for.  I  am 
used  to  be  chief  bailiff,  and  to  sit  in  the  saddle  two  or  three 
hours  every  day.  There  are  two  farms  on  our  hands  besides 
the  Home  Farm." 

"  Phew-ew  !  Jermyn  manages  the  estate  badly,  then.  That 
•will  not  last  under  my  reign,"  said  Harold,  turning  on  his  heel 
and  feeling  in  his  pockets  for  the  keys  of  his  portmanteaus, 
which  had  been  brought  up. 

"Perhaps  when  you've  been  in  England  a  little  longer," 
said  Mrs.  Transome,  coloring  as  if  she  had  been  a  girl,  "  you 
will  understand  better  the  difficulty  there  is  in  letting  farms 
in  these  times." 

"  I  understand  the  difficulty  perfectly,  mother.  To  let  farms, 
a  man  must  have  the  sense  to  see  what  will  make  them  invit- 
ing to  farmers,  and  to  get  sense  supplied  on  demand  is  just 
the  most  difficult  transaction  I  know  of.  I  suppose  if  I  ring 
there 's  some  fellow  who  can  act  as  valet  and  learn  to  attend 
to  my  hookah  ?  " 

"There  is  Hickes  the  butler,  and  there  is  Jabez  the  foot- 
man ;  those  are  all  the  men  in  the  house.  They  were  here 
when  you  left." 

"  Oh,  I  remember  Jabez  —  he  was  a  dolt.  I  '11  have  old 
Hickes.  He  was  a  neat  little  machine  of  a  butler ;  his  words 
used  to  come  like  the  clicks  of  an  engine.  He  must  be  an  old 
machine  now,  though." 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  23 

"  You  seem  to  remember  some  things  about  home  wonder- 
fully well,  Harold." 

"  Never  forget  places  and  people  —  how  they  look  and  what 
can  be  done  with  them.  All  the  country  round  here  lies  like 
a  map  in  my  brain.  A  deuced  pretty  country  too ;  but  the 
people  were  a  stupid  set  of  old  Whigs  and  Tories.  I  suppose 
they  are  much  as  they  were." 

"  I  am,  at  least,  Harold.  You  are  the  first  of  your  family 
that  ever  talked  of  being  a  Radical.  I  did  not  think  I  was 
taking  care  of  our  old  oaks  for  that.  I  always  thought  Radi- 
cals' houses  stood  staring  above  poor  sticks  of  young  trees  and 
iron  hurdles." 

"  Yes,  but  the  Radical  sticks  are  growing,  mother,  and  half 
the  Tory  oaks  are  rotting,"  said  Harold,  with  gay  carelessness. 
"  You  've  arranged  for  Jermyn  to  be  early  to-morrow  ?  " 

"  He  will  be  here  to  breakfast  at  nine.  But  I  leave  you  to 
Hickes  now ;  we  dine  in  an  hour." 

Mrs.  Transome  went  away  and  shut  herself  in  her  own 
dressing-room.  It  had  come  to  pass  now  —  this  meeting  with 
the  son  who  had  been  the  object  of  so  much  longing ;  whom 
she  had  longed  for  before  he  was  born,  for  whom  she  had 
sinned,  from  whom  she  had  wrenched  herself  with  pain  at 
their  parting,  and  whose  coming  again  had  been  the  one  great 
hope  of  her  years.  The  moment  was  gone  by  ;  there  had  been 
no  ecstasy,  no  gladness  even ;  hardly  half  an  hour  had  passed, 
and  few  words  had  been  spoken,  yet  with  that  quickness  in 
weaving  new  futures  which  belongs  to  women  whose  actions 
have  kept  them  in  habitual  fear  of  consequences,  Mrs.  Tran- 
some thought  she  saw  with  all  the  clearness  of  demonstration 
that  her  son's  return  had  not  been  a  good  for  her  in  the  sense 
of  making  her  any  happier. 

She  stood  before  a  tall  mirror,  going  close  to  it  and  looking 
at  her  face  with  hard  scrutiny,  as  if  it  were  unrelated  to  her- 
self. No  elderly  face  can  be  handsome,  looked  at  in  that  way ; 
every  little  detail  is  startlingly  prominent,  and  the  effect  of  the 
whole  is  lost.  She  saw  the  dried-up  complexion,  and  the  deep 
lines  of  bitter  discontent  about  the  mouth. 

"  I  am  a  hag  !  "  she  said  to  herself  (she  was  accustomed  to 


24  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

give  her  thoughts  a  very  sharp  outline),  "  an  ugly  old  woman 
who  happens  to  be  his  mother.  That  is  what  he  sees  in  me, 
as  I  see  a  stranger  in  him.  I  shall  count  for  nothing.  I  was 
foolish  to  expect  anything  else." 

She  turned  away  from  the  mirror  and  walked  up  and  down 
her  room. 

"  What  a  likeness !  "  she  said,  in  a  loud  whisper ;  "  yet,  per- 
haps, no  one  will  see  it  besides  me." 

She  threw  herself  into  a  chair,  and  sat  with  a  fixed  look,  see- 
ing nothing  that  was  actually  present,  but  inwardly  seeing 
with  painful  vividness  what  had  been  present  with  her  a  little 
more  than  thirty  years  ago  —  the  little  round-limbed  creature 
that  had  been  leaning  against  her  knees,  and  stamping  tiny 
feet,  and  looking  up  at  her  with  gurgling  laughter.  She  had 
thought  that  the  possession  of  this  child  would  give  unity  to 
her  life,  and  make  some  gladness  through  the  changing  years 
that  would  grow  as  fruit  out  of  these  early  maternal  caresses. 
But  nothing  had  come  just  as  she  had  wished.  The  mother's 
early  raptures  had  lasted  but  a  short  time,  and  even  while  they 
lasted  there  had  grown  up  in  the  midst  of  them  a  hungry  de- 
sire, like  a  black  poisonous  plant  feeding  in  the  sunlight,  —  the 
desire  that  her  first,  rickety,  ugly,  imbecile  child  should  die, 
and  leave  room  for  her  darling,  of  whom  she  could  be  proud. 
Such  desires  make  life  a  hideous  lottery,  where  every  day  may 
turn  up  a  blank ;  where  men  and  women  who  have  the  softest 
beds  and  the  most  delicate  eating,  who  have  a  very  large  share 
of  that  sky  and  earth  which  some  are  born  to  have  no  more  of 
than  the  fraction  to  be  got  in  a  crowded  entry,  yet  grow  hag- 
gard, fevered,  and  restless,  like  those  who  watch  in  other  lot- 
teries. Day  after  day,  year  after  year,  had  yielded  blanks ; 
new  cares  had  come,  bringing  other  desires  for  results  quite 
beyond  her  grasp,  which  must  also  be  watched  for  in  the  lot- 
tery ;  and  all  the  while  the  round-limbed  pet  had  been  growing 
into  a  strong  youth,  who  liked  many  things  better  than  his 
mother's  caresses,  and  who  had  a  much  keener  consciousness 
of  his  independent  existence  than  of  his  relation  to  her :  the 
lizard's  egg,  that  white,  rounded,  passive  prettiness,  had  become 
a  brown,  darting,  determined  lizard.  The  mother's  love  is  at 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  EADICAL.         25 

first  an  absorbing  delight,  blunting  all  other  sensibilities  ;  it  is 
an  expansion  of  the  animal  existence :  it  enlarges  the  imagined 
range  for  self  to  move  in  :  but  in  after  years  it  can  only  con- 
tinue to  be  joy  on  the  same  terms  as  other  long-lived  love  — 
that  is,  by  much  suppression  of  self,  and  power  of  living  in 
the  experience  of  another.  Mrs.  Transome  had  darkly  felt  the 
pressure  of  that  unchangeable  fact.  Yet  she  had  clung  to  the 
belief  that  somehow  the  possession  of  this  son  was  the  best 
thing  she  lived  for ;  to  believe  otherwise  would  have  made  her 
memory  too  ghastly  a  companion.  Some  time  or  other,  by 
some  means,  the  estate  she  was  struggling  to  save  from  the 
grasp  of  the  law  would  be  Harold's.  Somehow  the  hated 
Durfey,  the  imbecile  eldest,  who  seemed  to  have  become  tena- 
cious of  a  despicable  squandering  life,  would  be  got  rid  of ; 
vice  might  kill  him.  Meanwhile  the  estate  was  burthened : 
there  was  no  good  prospect  for  any  heir.  Harold  must  go  and 
make  a  career  for  himself  :  and  this  was  what  he  was  bent  on, 
with  a  precocious  clearness  of  perception  as  to  the  conditions 
on  which  he  could  hope  for  any  advantages  in  life.  Like  most 
energetic  natures,  he  had  a  strong  faith  in  his  luck ;  he  had 
been  gay  at  their  parting,  and  had  promised  to  make  his  for- 
tune ;  and  in  spite  of  past  disappointments,  Harold's  possible 
fortune  still  made  some  ground  for  his  mother  to  plant  her 
hopes  in.  His  luck  had  not  failed  him ;  yet  nothing  had 
turned  out  according  to  her  expectations.  Her  life  had  been 
like  a  spoiled  shabby  pleasure-day,  in  which  the  music  and  the 
processions  are  all  missed,  and  nothing  is  left  at  evening  but 
the  weariness  of  striving  after  what  has  been  failed  of.  Har- 
old had  gone  with  the  Embassy  to  Constantinople,  under  the 
patronage  of  a  high  relative,  his  mother's  cousin  ;  he  was  to  be 
a  diplomatist,  and  work  his  way  upward  in  public  life.  But 
his  luck  had  taken  another  shape  :  he  had  saved  the  life  of  an 
Armenian  banker,  who  in  gratitude  had  offered  him  a  prospect 
which  his  practical  mind  had  preferred  to  the  problematic 
promises  of  diplomacy  and  high-born  cousinship.  Harold  had 
become  a  merchant  and  banker  at  Smyrna ;  had  let  the  years 
pass  without  caring  to  find  the  possibility  of  visiting  his  early 
home,  and  had  shown  no  eagerness  to  make  his  life  at  all 


26         FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

familiar  to  his  mother,  asking  for  letters  about  England,  but 
writing  scantily  about  himself.  Mrs.  Transome  had  kept  up 
the  habit  of  writing  to  her  son,  but  gradually  the  unfruitful 
years  had  dulled  her  hopes  and  yearnings  ;  increasing  anxie- 
ties about  money  had  worried  her,  and  she  was  more  sure  of 
being  fretted  by  bad  news  about  her  dissolute  eldest  son  than 
of  hearing  anything  to  cheer  her  from  Harold.  She  had  begun 
to  live  merely  in  small  immediate  cares  and  occupations,  and, 
like  all  eager-minded  women  who  advance  in  life  without  any 
activity  of  tenderness  or  any  large  sympathy,  she  had  con- 
tracted small  rigid  habits  of  thinking  and  acting,  she  had  her 
"  ways  "  which  must  not  be  crossed,  and  had  learned  to  fill 
up  the  great  void  of  life  with  giving  small  orders  to  tenants, 
insisting  on  medicines  for  infirm  cottagers,  winning  small  tri- 
umphs in  bargains  and  personal  economies,  and  parrying  ill- 
natured  remarks  of  Lady  Debarry's  by  lancet-edged  epigrams. 
So  her  life  had  gone  on  till  more  than  a  year  ago,  when  that 
desire  which  had  been  so  hungry  when  she  was  a  bloom- 
ing young  mother,  was  at  last  fulfilled  —  at  last,  when  her 
hair  was  gray,  and  her  face  looked  bitter,  restless,  and  unen- 
joying,  like  her  life.  The  news  came  from  Jersey  that  Dur- 
fey,  the  imbecile  son,  was  dead.  Now  Harold  was  heir  to  the 
estate  ;  now  the  wealth  he  had  gained  could  release  the  land 
from  its  burthens ;  now  he  would  think  it  worth  while  to  re- 
turn home.  A  change  had  at  last  come  over  her  life,  and 
the  sunlight  breaking  the  clouds  at  evening  was  pleasant, 
though  the  sun  must  sink  before  long.  Hopes,  affections,  the 
sweeter  part  of  her  memories,  started  from  their  wintry  sleep, 
and  it  once  more  seemed  a  great  good  to  have  had  a  second 
son  who  in  some  ways  had  cost  her  dearly.  But  again  there 
were  conditions  she  had  not  reckoned  on.  When  the  good 
tidings  had  been  sent  to  Harold,  and  he  had  announced  that 
he  would  return  so  soon  as  he  could  wind  up  his  affairs,  he 
had  for  the  first  time  informed  his  mother  that  he  had  been 
married,  that  his  Greek  wife  was  no  longer  living,  but  that  he 
should  bring  home  a  little  boy,  the  finest  and  most  desirable 
of  heirs  and  grandsons.  Harold,  seated  in  his  distant  Smyrna 
home,  considered  that  he  was  taking  a  rational  view  of  what 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.         27 

things  must  have  become  by  this  time  at  the  old  place  in  Eng- 
land, when  he  figured  his  mother  as  a  good  elderly  lady,  who 
would  necessarily  be  delighted  with  the  possession  on  any 
terms  of  a  healthy  grandchild,  and  would  not  mind  much  about 
the  particulars  of  the  long-concealed  marriage. 

Mrs.  Transome  had  torn  up  that  letter  in  a  rage.  But  in 
the  months  which  had  elapsed  before  Harold  could  actually 
arrive,  she  had  prepared  herself  as  well  as  she  could  to  sup- 
press all  reproaches  or  queries  which  her  son  might  resent, 
and  to  acquiesce  in  his  evident  wishes.  The  return  was  still 
looked  for  with  longing ;  affection  and  satisfied  pride  would 
again  warm  her  later  years.  She  was  ignorant  what  sort  of 
man  Harold  had  become  now,  and  of  course  he  must  be 
changed  in  many  ways  ;  but  though  she  told  herself  this,  still 
the  image  that  she  knew,  the  image  fondness  clung  to,  neces- 
sarily prevailed  over  the  negatives  insisted  on  by  her  reason. 

And  so  it  was,  that  when  she  had  moved  to  the  door  to 
meet  him,  she  had  been  sure  that  she  should  clasp  her  son 
again,  and  feel  that  he  was  the  same  who  had  been  her  boy, 
her  little  one,  the  loved  child  of  her  passionate  youth.  An 
hour  seemed  to  have  changed  everything  for  her.  A  woman's 
hopes  are  woven  of  sunbeams;  a  shadow  annihilates  them. 
The  shadow  which  had  fallen  over  Mrs.  Transome  in  this  first 
interview  with  her  son  was  the  presentiment  of  her  powerless- 
ness.  If  things  went  wrong,  if  Harold  got  unpleasantly  dis- 
posed in  a  certain  direction  where  her  chief  dread  had  always 
lain,  she  seemed  to  foresee  that  her  words  would  be  of  no 
avail.  The  keenness  of  her  anxiety  in  this  matter  had  served 
as  insight ;  and  Harold's  rapidity,  decision,  and  indifference  to 
any  impressions  in  others  which  did  not  further  or  impede  his 
own  purposes,  had  made  themselves  felt  by  her  as  much  as  she 
would  have  felt  the  unmanageable  strength  of  a  great  bird 
which  had  alighted  near  her,  and  allowed  her  to  stroke  its 
wing  for  a  moment  because  food  lay  near  her. 

Under  the  cold  weight  of  these  thoughts  Mrs.  Transome 
shivered.  That  physical  reaction  roused  her  from  her  reverie, 
and  she  could  now  hear  the  gentle  knocking  at  the  door  to 
which  she  had  been  deaf  before.  Notwithstanding  her  activity 


28  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL. 

and  the  fewness  of  her  servants,  she  had  never  dressed  herself 
without  aid ;  nor  would  that  small,  neat,  exquisitely  clean  old 
woman  who  now  presented  herself  have  wished  that  her  labor 
should  be  saved  at  the  expense  of  such  a  sacrifice  on  her  lady's 
part.  The  small  old  woman  was  Mrs.  Hickes,  the  butler's 
wife,  who  acted  as  housekeeper,  lady's-maid,  and  superinten- 
dent of  the  kitchen — the  large  stony  scene  of  inconsiderable 
cooking.  Forty  years  ago  she  had  entered  Mrs.  Transome's 
service,  when  that  lady  was  beautiful  Miss  Lingon,  and  her 
mistress  still  called  her  Denner,  as  she  had  done  in  the  old 
days. 

"  The  bell  has  rung,  then,  Denner,  without  my  hearing  it  ?  " 
said  Mrs.  Transome,  rising. 

"  Yes,  madam,"  said  Denner,  reaching  from  a  wardrobe  an  old 
black  velvet  dress  trimmed  with  much-mended  point,  in  which 
Mrs.  Transome  was  wont  to  look  queenly  of  an  evening. 

Denner  had  still  strong  eyes  of  that  short-sighted  kind  which 
sees  through  the  narrowest  chink  between  the  eyelashes.  The 
physical  contrast  between  the  tall,  eagle-faced,  dark-eyed  lady, 
and  the  little  peering  waiting-woman,  who  had  been  round- 
featured  and  of  pale  mealy  complexion  from  her  youth  up,  had 
doubtless  had  a  strong  influence  in  determining  Denner's  feel- 
ing towards  her  mistress,  which  was  of  that  worshipful  sort 
paid  to  a  goddess  in  ages  when  it  was  not  thought  necessary 
or  likely  that  a  goddess  should  be  very  moral.  There  were 
different  orders  of  beings  —  so  ran  Denner's  creed  —  and  she 
belonged  to  another  order  than  that  to  which  her  mistress  be- 
longed. She  had  a  mind  as  sharp  as  a  needle,  and  would  have 
seen  through  and  through  the  ridiculous  pretensions  of  a  born 
servant  who  did  not  submissively  accept  the  rigid  fate  which 
had  given  her  born  superiors.  She  would  have  called  such  pre- 
tensions the  wrigglings  of  a  worm  that  tried  to  walk  on  its  tail. 
There  was  a  tacit  understanding  that  Denner  knew  all  her  mis- 
tress's secrets,  and  her  speech  was  plain  and  unflattering ;  yet 
with  wonderful  subtlety  of  instinct  she  never  said  anything 
which  Mrs.  Transome  could  feel  humiliated  by,  as  by  a  familiar- 
ity from  a  servant  who  knew  too  much.  Deimer  identified  her 
own  dignity  with  that  of  her  mistress.  She  was  a  hard-headed 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  29 

godless  little  woman,  but  with  a  character  to  be  reckoned  on 
as  you  reckon  on  the  qualities  of  iron. 

Peering  into  Mrs.  Transome's  face,  she  saw  clearly  that  the 
meeting  with  the  son  had  been  a  disappointment  in  some  way. 
She  spoke  with  a  refined  accent,  in  a  low,  quick,  monotonous 
tone  — 

"  Mr.  Harold  is  drest ;  he  shook  me  by  the  hand  in  the  cor- 
ridor, and  was  very  pleasant." 

"  What  an  alteration,  Deuner !    No  likeness  to  me  now." 

"Handsome,  though,  spite  of  his  being  so  browned  and 
stout.  There 's  a  fine  presence  about  Mr.  Harold.  I  remem- 
ber you  used  to  say,  madam,  there  were  some  people  you  would 
always  know  were  in  the  room  though  they  stood  round  a  cor- 
ner, and  others  you  might  never  see  till  you  ran  against  them. 
That 's  as  true  as  truth.  And  as  for  likenesses,  thirty -five  and 
sixty  are  not  much  alike,  only  to  people's  memories." 

Mrs.  Transome  knew  perfectly  that  Denner  had  divined  her 
thoughts. 

"  I  don't  know  how  things  will  go  on  now ;  but  it  seems 
something  too  good  to  happen  that  they  will  go  on  well.  I 
am  afraid  of  ever  expecting  anything  good  again." 

"That's  weakness,  madam.  Things  don't  happen  because 
they  're  bad  or  good,  else  all  eggs  would  be  addled  or  none  at 
all,  and  at  the  most  it  is  but  six  to  the  dozen.  There 's  good 
chances  and  bad  chances,  and  nobody's  luck  is  pulled  only  by 
one  string." 

"  What  a  woman  you  are,  Denner  !  You  talk  like  a  French 
infidel.  It  seems  to  me  you  are  afraid  of  nothing.  I  have 
been  full  of  fears  all  my  life  —  always  seeing  something  or 
other  hanging  over  me  that  I  could  n't  bear  to  happen." 

"  Well,  madam,  put  a  good  face  on  it,  and  don't  seem  to  be 
on  the  lookout  for  crows,  else  you  '11  set  other  people  watch- 
ing. Here  you  have  a  rich  son  come  home,  and  the  debts  will 
all  be  paid,  and  you  have  your  health  and  can  ride  about,  and 
you  've  such  a  face  and  figure,  and  will  have  if  you  live  to  be 
eighty,  that  everybody  is  cap  in  hand  to  you  before  they  know 
who  you  are  —  let  me  fasten  up  your  veil  a  little  higher : 
there  's  a  good  deal  of  pleasure  in  life  for  you  yet." 


30  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  KADICAL. 

"  Nonsense !  there 's  no  pleasure  for  old  women,  unless  they 
get  it  out  of  tormenting  other  people.  What  are  your  pleas- 
ures, Denner  —  besides  being  a  slave  to  me  ?  " 

"  Oh,  there 's  pleasure  in  knowing  one  's  not  a  fool,  like 
half  the  people  one  sees  about.  And  managing  one's  husband 
is  some  pleasure  ;  and  doing  all  one's  business  well.  Why,  if 
I  Ve  only  got  some  orange  flowers  to  candy,  I  should  n't  like 
to  die  till  I  see  them  all  right.  Then  there  's  the  sunshine 
now  and  then  ;  I  like  that  as  the  cats  do.  I  look  upon  it,  life 
is  like  our  game  at  whist,  when  Banks  and  his  wife  come  to 
the  still-room  of  an  evening.  I  don't  enjoy  the  game  much, 
but  I  like  to  play  my  cards  well,  and  see  what  will  be  the  end 
of  it ;  and  I  want  to  see  you  make  the  best  of  your  hand, 
madam,  for  your  luck  has  been  mine  these  forty  years  now. 
But  I  must  go  and  see  how  Kitty  dishes  up  the  dinner,  unless 
you  have  any  more  commands." 

"  No,  Denner ;  I  am  going  down  immediately." 

As  Mrs.  Transome  descended  the  stone  staircase  in  her  old 
black  velvet  and  point,  her  appearance  justified  Denner's 
personal  compliment.  She  had  that  high-born  imperious  air 
which  would  have  marked  her  as  an  object  of  hatred  and 
reviling  by  a  revolutionary  mob.  Her  person  was  too  typical 
of  social  distinctions  to  be  passed  by  with  indifference  by  any 
one  :  it  would  have  fitted  an  empress  in  her  own  right,  who 
had  had  to  rule  in  spite  of  faction,  to  dare  the  violation  of 
treaties  and  dread  retributive  invasions,  to  grasp  after  new 
territories,  to  be  defiant  in  desperate  circumstances,  and  to 
feel  a  woman's  hunger  of  the  heart  forever  unsatisfied.  Yet 
Mrs.  Transome's  cares  and  occupations  had  not  been  at  all  of 
an  imperial  sort.  For  thirty  years  she  had  led  the  monoto- 
nous narrowing  life  which  used  to  be  the  lot  of  our  poorer 
gentry ;  who  never  went  to  town,  and  were  probably  not  on 
speaking  terms  with  two  out  of  the  five  families  whose  parks 
lay  within  the  distance  of  a  drive.  When  she  was  young  she 
had  been  thought  wonderfully  clever  and  accomplished,  and 
had  been  rather  ambitious  of  intellectual  superiority  —  had  se- 
cretly picked  out  for  private  reading  the  lighter  parts  of  dan- 
gerous French  authors  —  and  in  company  had  been  able  to 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  31 

talk  of  Mr.  Burke's  style,  or  of  Chateaubriand's  eloquence  — 
had  laughed  at  the  Lyrical  Ballads  and  admired  Mr.  Southey's 
Thalaba.  She  always  thought  that  the  dangerous  French 
writers  were  wicked  and  that  her  reading  of  them  was  a  sin  ; 
but  many  sinful  things  were  highly  agreeable  to  her,  and 
many  things  which  she  did  not  doubt  to  be  good  and  true 
were  dull  and  meaningless.  She  found  ridicule  of  Biblical 
characters  very  amusing,  and  she  was  interested  in  stories  of 
illicit  passion  :  but  she  believed  all  the  while  that  truth  and 
safety  lay  in  due  attendance  on  prayers  and  sermons,  in  the 
admirable  doctrines  and  ritual  of  the  Church  of  England, 
equally  remote  from  Puritanism  and  Popery ;  in  fact,  in  such 
a  view  of  this  world  and  the  next  as  would  preserve  the  exist- 
ing arrangements  of  English  society  quite  unshaken,  keeping 
down  the  obtrusiveness  of  the  vulgar  and  the  discontent  of 
the  poor.  The  history  of  the  Jews,  she  knew,  ought  to  be 
preferred  to  any  profane  history ;  the  Pagans,  of  course,  were 
vicious,  and  their  religions  quite  nonsensical,  considered  as 
religions  —  but  classical  learning  came  from  the  Pagans  ;  the 
Greeks  were  famous  for  sculpture  ;  the  Italians  for  painting  ; 
the  middle  ages  were  dark  and  Papistical ;  but  now  Chris- 
tianity went  hand  in  hand  with  civilization,  and  the  providen- 
tial government  of  the  world,  though  a  little  confused  and 
entangled  in  foreign  countries,  in  our  favored  land  was  clearly 
seen  to  be  carried  forward  on  Tory  and  Church  of  England 
principles,  sustained  by  the  succession  of  the  House  of  Bruns- 
wick, and  by  sound  English  divines.  For  Miss  Lingon  had 
had  a  superior  governess,  who  held  that  a  woman  should  be 
able  to  write  a  good  letter,  and  to  express  herself  with  pro- 
priety on  general  subjects.  And  it  is  astonishing  how  effec- 
tive this  education  appeared  in  a  handsome  girl,  who  sat 
supremely  well  on  horseback,  sang  and  played  a  little,  painted 
small  figures  in  water-colors,  had  a  naughty  sparkle  in  her 
eyes  when  she  made  a  daring  quotation,  and  an  air  of  serious 
dignity  when  she  recited  something  from  her  store  of  correct 
opinions.  But  however  such  a  stock  of  ideas  may  be  made 
to  tell  in  elegant  society,  and  during  a  few  seasons  in  town, 
no  amount  of  bloom  and  beauty  can  make  them  a  perennial 


32  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL. 

source  of  interest  in  things  not  personal ;  and  the  notion  that 
what  is  true  and,  in  general,  good  for  mankind,  is  stupid  and 
drug-like,  is  not  a  safe  theoretic  basis  in  circumstances  of 
temptation  and  difficulty.  Mrs.  Transome  had  been  in  her 
bloom  before  this  century  began,  and  in  the  long  painful  years 
since  then,  what  she  had  once  regarded  as  her  knowledge  and 
accomplishments  had  become  as  valueless  as  old-fashioned 
stucco  ornaments,  of  which  the  substance  was  never  worth 
anything,  while  the  form  is  no  longer  to  the  taste  of  any 
living  mortal.  Crosses,  mortifications,  money-cares,  conscious 
blameworthiness,  had  changed  the  aspect  of  the  world  for 
her :  there  was  anxiety  in  the  morning  sunlight ;  there  was 
unkind  triumph  or  disapproving  pity  in  the  glances  of  greet- 
ing neighbors ;  there  was  advancing  age,  and  a  contracting 
prospect  in  the  changing  seasons  as  they  came  and  went.  And 
what  could  then  sweeten  the  days  to  a  hungry  much-exacting 
self  like  Mrs.  Transome's  ?  Under  protracted  ill  every  liv- 
ing creature  will  find  something  that  makes  a  comparative 
ease,  and  even  when  life  seems  woven  of  pain,  will  convert 
the  fainter  pang  into  a  desire.  Mrs.  Transome,  whose  impe- 
rious will  had  availed  little  to  ward  off  the  great  evils  of  her 
life,  found  the  opiate  for  her  discontent  in  the  exertion  of 
her  will  about  smaller  things.  She  was  not  cruel,  and  could 
not  enjoy  thoroughly  what  she  called  the  old  woman's  pleasure 
of  tormenting ;  but  she  liked  every  little  sign  of  power  her 
lot  had  left  her.  She  liked  that  a  tenant  should  stand  bare- 
headed below  her  as  she  sat  on  horseback.  She  liked  to  insist 
that  work  done  without  her  orders  should  be  undone  from 
beginning  to  end.  She  liked  to  be  curtsied  and  bowed  to  by 
all  the  congregation  as  she  walked  up  the  little  barn  of  a 
church.  She  liked  to  change  a  laborer's  medicine  fetched 
from  the  doctor,  and  substitute  a  prescription  of  her  own.  If 
she  had  only  been  more  haggard  and  less  majestic,  those  who 
had  glimpses  of  her  outward  life  might  have  said  she  was  a 
tyrannical,  griping  harridan,  with  a  tongue  like  a  razor.  No 
one  said  exactly  that ;  but  they  never  said  anything  like  the 
full  truth  about  her,  or  divined  what  was  hidden  under  that 
outward  life  —  a  woman's  keen  sensibility  and  dread,  which 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  33 

lay  screened  behind  all  her  petty  habits  and  narrow  notions, 
as  some  quivering  thing  with  eyes  and  throbbing  heart  may 
lie  crouching  behind  withered  rubbish.  The  sensibility  and 
dread  had  palpitated  all  the  faster  in  the  prospect  of  her  son's 
return ;  and  now  that  she  had  seen  him,  she  said  to  herself, 
in  her  bitter  way,  "  It  is  a  lucky  eel  that  escapes  skinning. 
The  best  happiness  I  shall  ever  know,  will  be  to  escape  the 
worst  misery." 


CHAPTER  II. 

A  jolly  parson  of  the  good  old  stock, 

By  birth  a  gentleman,  yet  homely  too, 

Suiting  his  phrase  to  Hodge  and  Margery 

Whom  he  once  christened,  and  has  married  since. 

A  little  lax  in  doctrine  and  in  life, 

Not  thinking  God  was  captious  in  such  things 

As  what  a  man  might  drink  on  holidays, 

But  holding  true  religion  was  to  do 

As  you  'd  be  done  by  —  which  could  never  mean 

That  he  should  preach  three  sermons  in  a  week. 

HAROLD  TRANSOME  did  not  choose  to  spend  the  whole  even- 
ing with  his  mother.  It  was  his  habit  to  compress  a  great 
deal  of  effective  conversation  into  a  short  space  of  time,  ask- 
ing rapidly  all  the  questions  he  wanted  to  get  answered,  and 
diluting  no  subject  with  irrelevancies,  paraphrase,  or  repeti- 
tions. He  volunteered  no  information  about  himself  and  his 
past  life  at  Smyrna,  but  answered  pleasantly  enough,  though 
briefly,  whenever  his  mother  asked  for  any  detail.  He  was 
evidently  ill-satisfied  as  to  his  palate,  trying  red  pepper  to 
everything,  then  asking  if  there  were  any  relishing  sauces 
in  the  house,  and  when  Hickes  brought  various  home-filled 
bottles,  trying  several,  finding  them  failures,  and  finally  fall- 
ing back  from  his  plate  in  despair.  Yet  he  remained  good- 
humored,  saying  something  to  his  father  now  and  then  for 


34  FELIX  HOLT,   THE   RADICAL. 

the  sake  of  being  kind,  and  looking  on  with  a  pitying  shrug 
as  he  saw  him  watch  Hickes  cutting  his  food.  Mrs.  Transome 
thought  with  some  bitterness  that  Harold  showed  more  feel- 
ing for  her  feeble  husband  who  had  never  cared  in  the  least 
about  him,  than  for  her,  who  had  given  him  more  than  the 
usual  share  of  mother's  love.  An  hour  after  dinner,  Harold, 
who  had  already  been  turning  over  the  leaves  of  his  mother's 
account-books,  said  — 

"  I  shall  just  cross  the  park  to  the  parsonage  to  see  my 
uncle  Lingon." 

"  Very  well.     He  can  answer  more  questions  for  you." 

"  Yes/'  said  Harold,  quite  deaf  to  the  innuendo,  and  accept- 
ing the  words  as  a  simple  statement  of  the  fact.  "  I  want  to 
hear  all  about  the  game  and  the  North  Loamshire  hunt.  I  'm 
fond  of  sport ;  we  had  a  great  deal  of  it  at  Smyrna,  and  it 
keeps  down  my  fat." 

The  Reverend  John  Liugon  became  very  talkative  over  his 
second  bottle  of  port,  which  was  opened  on  his  nephew's 
arrival.  He  was  not  curious  about  the  manners  of  Smyrna, 
or  about  Harold's  experience,  but  he  unbosomed  himself  very 
freely  as  to  what  he  himself  liked  and  disliked,  which  of  the 
farmers  he  suspected  of  killing  the  foxes,  what  game  he  had 
bagged  that  very  morning,  what  spot  he  would  recommend  as 
a  new  cover,  and  the  comparative  flatness  of  all  existing  sport 
compared  with  cock-fighting,  under  which  Old  England  had 
been  prosperous  and  glorious,  while,  so  far  as  he  could  see, 
it  had  gained  little  by  the  abolition  of  a  practice  which  sharp- 
ened the  faculties  of  men,  gratified  the  instincts  of  the  fowl, 
and  carried  out  the  designs  of  heaven  in  its  admirable  device 
of  spurs.  From  these  main  topics,  which  made  his  points  of 
departure  and  return,  he  rambled  easily  enough  at  any  new 
suggestion  or  query ;  so  that  when  Harold  got  home  at  a  late 
hour,  he  was  conscious  of  having  gathered  from  amidst  the 
pompous  full-toned  triviality  of  his  uncle's  chat  some  impres- 
sions which  were  of  practical  importance.  Among  the  Hec- 
tor's dislikes,  it  appeared,  was  Mr.  Matthew  Jermyn. 

"  A  fat-handed,  glib-tongued  fellow,  with  a  scented  cambric 
handkerchief ;  one  of  your  educated  low-bred  fellows  ;  a  found- 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  35 

ling  who  got  his  Latin  for  nothing  at  Christ's  Hospital ;  one 
of  your  middle-class  upstarts  who  want  to  rank  with  gen- 
tlemen, and  think  they'll  do  it  with  kid  gloves  and  new 
furniture." 

But  since  Harold  meant  to  stand  for  the  county,  Mr.  Lingon 
was  equally  emphatic  as  to  the  necessity  of  his  not  quarrelling 
with  Jermyn  till  the  election  was  over.  Jermyn  must  be  his 
agent ;  Harold  must  wink  hard  till  he  found  himself  safely 
returned;  and  even  then  it  might  be  well  to  let  Jermyn  drop 
gently  and  raise  no  scandal.  He  himself  had  no  quarrel  with 
the  fellow :  a  clergyman  should  have  no  quarrels,  and  he  made 
it  a  point  to  be  able  to  take  wine  with  any  man  he  met  at 
table.  And  as  to  the  estate,  and  his  sister's  going  too  much 
by  Jermyn's  advice,  he  never  meddled  with  business  :  it  was 
not  his  duty  as  a  clergyman.  That,  he  considered,  was  the 
meaning  of  Melchisedec  and  the  tithe,  a  subject  into  which  he 
had  gone  to  some  depth  thirty  years  ago,  when  he  preached 
the  Visitation  sermon. 

The  discovery  that  Harold  meant  to  stand  on  the  Liberal 
side — nay,  that  he  boldly  declared  himself  a  Radical  —  was 
rather  startling;  but  to  his  uncle's  good-humor,  beatified  by 
the  sipping  of  port-wine,  nothing  could  seem  highly  objection- 
able, provided  it  did  not  disturb  that  operation.  In  the  course 
of  half  an  hour  he  had  brought  himself  to  see  that  anything 
really  worthy  to  be  called  British  Toryism  had  been  entirely 
extinct  since  the  Duke  of  Wellington  and  Sir  Robert  Peel  had 
passed  the  Catholic  Emancipation  Bill ;  that  AVhiggery,  with 
its  rights  of  man  stopping  short  at  ten-pound  householders, 
and  its  policy  of  pacifying  a  wild  beast  with  a  bite,  was  a  ridicu- 
lous monstrosity ;  that  therefore,  since  an  honest  man  could 
not  call  himself  a  Tory,  which  it  was,  in  fact,  as  impossible  to 
be  now  as  to  fight  for  the  old  Pretender,  and  could  still  less 
become  that  execrable  monstrosity  a  Whig,  there  remained 
but  one  course  open  to  him.  "  Why,  lad,  if  the  world  was 
turned  into  a  swamp,  I  suppose  we  should  leave  off  shoes  and 
stockings,  and  walk  about  like  cranes  "  —  whence  it  followed 
plainly  enough  that,  in  these  hopeless  times,  nothing  was  left 
to  men  of  sense  and  good  family  but  to  retard  the  national 


36         FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

ruin  by  declaring  themselves  Radicals,  and  take  the  inevitable 
process  of  changing  everything  out  of  the  hands  of  beggarly 
demagogues  and  purse-proud  tradesmen.  It  is  true  the  Rector 
was  helped  to  this  chain  of  reasoning  by  Harold's  remarks ; 
but  he  soon  became  quite  ardent  in  asserting  the  conclusion. 

"  If  the  mob  can't  be  turned  back,  a  man  of  family  must  try 
and  head  the  mob,  and  save  a  few  homes  and  hearths,  and 
keep  the  country  up  on  its  last  legs  as  long  as  he  can.  And 
you  're  a  man  of  family,  my  lad  —  dash  it !  you  're  a  Lingon, 
whatever  else  you  may  be,  and  I  '11  stand  by  you.  I  've  no 
great  interest ;  I  'm  a  poor  parson.  I  've  been  forced  to  give 
up  hunting ;  my  pointers  and  a  glass  of  good  wine  are  the  only 
decencies  becoming  my  station  that  I  can  allow  myself.  But 
I  '11  give  you  my  countenance  —  I  '11  stick  to  you  as  my 
nephew.  There 's  no  need  for  me  to  change  sides  exactly. 
I  was  born  a  Tory,  and  I  shall  never  be  a  bishop.  But  if 
anybody  says  you  're  in  the  wrong,  I  shall  say,  '  My  nephew 
is  in  the  right ;  he  has  turned  Radical  to  save  his  country. 
If  William  Pitt  had  been  living  now,  he'd  have  done  the 
same ;  for  what  did  he  say  when  he  was  dying  ?  Not  "  Oh, 
save  my  party  ! "  but  "  Oh,  save  my  country,  heaven ! " 3  That 
was  what  they  dinned  in  our  ears  about  Peel  and  the  Duke  ; 
and  now  I  '11  turn  it  round  upon  them.  They  shall  be  hoist 
with  their  own  petard.  Yes,  yes,  I  '11  stand  by  you." 

Harold  did  not  feel  sure  that  his  uncle  would  thoroughly 
retain  this  satisfactory  thread  of  argument  in  the  uninspired 
hours  of  the  morning ;  but  the  old  gentleman  was  sure  to  take 
the  facts  easily  in  the  end,  and  there  was  no  fear  of  family 
coolness  or  quarrelling  on  this  side.  Harold  was  glad  of  it. 
He  was  not  to  be  turned  aside  from  any  course  he  had  chosen ; 
but  he  disliked  all  quarrelling  as  an  unpleasant  expenditure 
of  energy  that  could  have  no  good  practical  result.  He  was 
at  once  active  and  luxurious ;  fond  of  mastery,  and  good- 
natured  enough  to  wish  that  every  one  about  him  should  like 
his  mastery ;  not  caring  greatly  to  know  other  people's  thoughts, 
and  ready  to  despise  them  as  blockheads  if  their  thoughts  dif- 
fered from  his,  and  yet  solicitous  that  they  should  have  no 
colorable  reason  for  slight  thoughts  about  him.  The  block- 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  37 

heads  must  be  forced  to  respect  him.  Hence,  in  proportion  as 
he  foresaw  that  his  equals  in  the  neighborhood  would  be  in- 
dignant with  him  for  his  political  choice,  he  cared  keenly 
about  making  a  good  figure  before  them  in  every  other  way. 
His  conduct  as  a  landholder  was  to  be  judicious,  his  establish- 
ment was  to  be  kept  up  generously,  his  imbecile  father  treated 
with  careful  regard,  his  family  relations  entirely  without  scan- 
dal. He  knew  that  affairs  had  been  unpleasant  in  his  youth 
—  that  there  had  been  ugly  lawsuits  —  and  that  his  scape- 
grace brother  Durfey  had  helped  to  lower  still  farther  the 
depressed  condition  of  the  family.  All  this  must  be  retrieved, 
now  that  events  had  made  Harold  the  head  of  the  Transome 
name. 

Jermyn  must  be  used  for  the  election,  and  after  that,  if  he 
must  be  got  rid  of,  it  would  be  well  to  shake  him  loose  quietly : 
his  uncle  was  probably  right  on  both  these  points.  But  Har- 
old's expectation  that  he  should  want  to  get  rid  of  Jermyn 
was  founded  on  other  reasons  than  his  scented  handkerchief 
and  his  charity-school  Latin. 

If  the  lawyer  had  been  presuming  on  Mrs.  Transome's  ig- 
norance as  a  woman,  and  on  the  stupid  rakishness  of  the 
original  heir,  the  new  heir  would  prove  to  him  that  he  had 
calculated  rashly.  Otherwise,  Harold  had  no  prejudice  against 
him.  In  his  boyhood  and  youth  he  had  seen  Jermyn  frequent- 
ing Transome  Court,  but  had  regarded  him  with  that  total 
indifference  with  which  youngsters  are  apt  to  view  those  who 
neither  deny  them  pleasures  nor  give  them  any.  Jermyn  used 
to  smile  at  him,  and  speak  to  him  affably ;  but  Harold,  half 
proud,  half  shy,  got  away  from  such  patronage  as  soon  as  pos- 
sible :  he  knew  Jermyn  was  a  man  of  business ;  his  father, 
his  uncle,  and  Sir  Maximus  Debarry  did  not  regard  him  as  a 
gentleman  and  their  equal.  He  had  known  no  evil  of  the 
man ;  but  he  saw  now  that  if  he  were  really  a  covetous  up- 
start, there  had  been  a  temptation  for  him  in  the  management 
of  the  Transome  affairs ;  and  it  was  clear  that  the  estate  was 
in  a  bad  condition. 

When  Mr.  Jermyn  was  ushered  into  the  breakfast-room  the 
next  morning,  Harold  found  him  surprisingly  little  altered  by 


38  FELIX   HOLT,   THE  RADICAL. 

the  fifteen  years.  He  was  gray,  but  still  remarkably  hand- 
some ;  fat,  but  tall  enough  to  bear  that  trial  to  man's  dignity. 
There  was  as  strong  a  suggestion  of  toilet  about  him  as  if  he 
had  been  five-and-twenty  instead  of  nearly  sixty.  He  chose 
always  to  dress  in  black,  and  was  especially  addicted  to  black 
satin  waistcoats,  which  carried  out  the  general  sleekness  of 
his  appearance;  and  this,  together  with  his  white,  fat,  but 
beautifully  shaped  hands,  which  he  was  in  the  habit  of  rub- 
bing gently  on  his  entrance  into  a  room,  gave  him  very  much 
the  air  of  a  lady's  physician.  Harold  remembered  with  some 
amusement  his  uncle's  dislike  of  those  conspicuous  hands  ; 
but  as  his  own  were  soft  and  dimpled,  and  as  he  too  was  given 
to  the  innocent  practice  of  rubbing  those  members,  his  suspi- 
cions were  not  yet  deepened. 

"  I  congratulate  you,  Mrs.  Transome,"  said  Jermyn,  with  a 
soft  and  deferential  smile,  "all  the  more,"  he  added,  turning 
towards  Harold,  "  now  I  have  the  pleasure  of  actually  seeing 
your  son.  I  am  glad  to  perceive  that  an  Eastern  climate  has 
not  been  unfavorable  to  him." 

"  No,"  said  Harold,  shaking  Jermyn's  hand  carelessly,  and 
speaking  with  more  than  his  usual  rapid  brusqueness,  "the 
question  is,  whether  the  English  climate  will  agree  with  me. 
It 's  deuced  shifting  and  damp  ;  and  as  for  the  food,  it  would 
be  the  finest  thing  in  the  world  for  this  country  if  the  southern 
cooks  would  change  their  religion,  get  persecuted,  and  fly  to 
England,  as  the  old  silk-weavers  did." 

"  There  are  plenty  of  foreign  cooks  for  those  who  are  rich 
enough  to  pay  for  them,  I  suppose,"  said  Mrs.  Transome,  "  but 
they  are  unpleasant  people  to  have  aboiit  one's  house." 

"  Gad !  I  don't  think  so,"  said  Harold. 

"  The  old  servants  are  sure  to  quarrel  with  them." 

"  That 's  no  concern  of  mine.  The  old  servants  will  have 
to  put  up  with  my  man  Dominic,  who  will  show  them  how  to 
cook  and  do  everything  else,  in  a  way  that  will  rather  astonish 
them." 

"Old  people  are  not  so  easily  taught  to  change  all  their 
ways,  Harold." 

"  Well,  they  can  give  up  and  watch  the  young  ones,"  said 


FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL.  39 

Harold,  thinking  only  at  that  moment  of  old  Mrs.  Hickes  and 
Dominic.  But  his  mother  was  not  thinking  of  them  only. 

"  You  have  a  valuable  servant,  it  seems,"  said  Jermyn,  who 
understood  Mrs.  Transome  better  than  her  son  did,  and  wished 
to  smoothen  the  current  of  their  dialogue. 

"  Oh,  one  of  those  wonderful  southern  fellows  that  make 
one's  life  easy.  He  'a  of  no  country  in  particular.  I  don't 
know  whether  he  's  most  of  a  Jew,  a  Greek,  an  Italian,  or  a 
Spaniard.  He  speaks  five  or  six  languages,  one  as  well  as 
another.  He 's  cook,  valet,  major-domo,  and  secretary  all  in 
one ;  and  what 's  more,  he  's  an  affectionate  fellow  —  I  can 
trust  to  his  attachment.  That's  a  sort  of  human  specimen 
that  does  n't  grow  here  in  England,  I  fancy.  I  should  have 
been  badly  off  if  I  could  not  have  brought  Dominic." 

They  sat  down  to  breakfast  with  such  slight  talk  as  this 
going  on.  Each  of  the  party  was  preoccupied  and  uneasy. 
Harold's  mind  was  busy  constructing  probabilities  about  what 
he  should  discover  of  Jermyn's  mismanagement  or  dubious 
application  of  funds,  and  the  sort  of  self-command  he  must  in 
the  worst  case  exercise  in  order  to  use  the  man  as  long  as  he 
wanted  him.  Jermyn  was  closely  observing  Harold  with  an 
unpleasant  sense  that  there  was  an  expression  of  acuteness 
and  determination  about  him  which  would  make  him  formi- 
dable. He  would  certainly  have  preferred  at  that  moment 
that  there  had  been  no  second  heir  of  the  Transome  name  to 
come  back  upon  him  from  the  East.  Mrs.  Transome  was  not 
observing  the  two  men  ;  rather,  her  hands  were  cold,  and  her 
whole  person  shaken  by  their  presence ;  she  seemed  to  hear  and 
see  what  they  said  and  did  with  preternatural  acuteness, 
and  yet  she  was  also  seeing  and  hearing  what  had  been  said 
and  done  many  years  before,  and  feeling  a  dim  terror  about 
the  future.  There  were  piteous  sensibilities  in  this  faded 
woman,  who  thirty-four  years  ago,  in  the  splendor  of  her 
bloom,  had  been  imperious  to  one  of  these  men,  and  had  rap- 
turously pressed  the  other  as  an  infant  to  her  bosom,  and  now 
knew  that  she  was  of  little  consequence  to  either  of  them. 

"  Well,  what  are  the  prospects  about  the  election  ? "  said 
Harold,  as  the  breakfast  was  advancing.  "  There  are  two 


40  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  KADICAL. 

Whigs  and  one  Conservative  likely  to  be  in  the  field,  I  know. 
What  is  your  opinion  of  the  chances  ?  " 

Mr.  Jermyn  had  a  copious  supply  of  words,  which  often  led 
him  into  periphrase,  but  he  cultivated  a  hesitating  stammer, 
which,  with  a  handsome  impassiveness  of  face,  except  when 
he  was  smiling  at  a  woman,  or  when  the  latent  savageness  of 
his  nature  was  thoroughly  roused,  he  had  found  useful  in  many 
relations,  especially  in  business.  No  one  could  have  found  out 
that  he  was  not  at  his  ease.  "  My  opinion,"  he  replied,  "  is  in 
a  state  of  balance  at  present.  This  division  of  the  county, 
you  are  aware,  contains  one  manufacturing  town  of  the  first 
magnitude,  and  several  smaller  ones.  The  manufacturing  in- 
terest is  widely  dispersed.  So  far  —  a  —  there  is  a  presump- 
tion —  a  —  in  favor  of  the  two  Liberal  candidates.  Still,  with 
a  careful  canvass  of  the  agricultural  districts,  such  as  those  we 
have  round  us  at  Treby  Magna,  I  think  —  a  —  the  auguries  — 
a — would  not  be  unfavorable  to  the  return  of  a  Conservative. 
A  fourth  candidate  of  good  position,  who  should  coalesce  with 
Mr.  Debarry  —  a  —  " 

Here  Mr.  Jermyn  hesitated  for  the  third  time,  and  Harold 
broke  in. 

"  That  will  not  be  my  line  of  action,  so  we  need  not  discuss 
it.  If  I  put  up,  it  will  be  as  a  Radical ;  and  I  fancy,  in  any 
county  that  would  return  Whigs  there  would  be  plenty  of 
voters  to  be  combed  off  by  a  Eadical  who  offered  himself  with 
good  pretensions." 

There  was  the  slightest  possible  quiver  discernible  across 
Jermyn's  face.  Otherwise  he  sat  as  he  had  done  before,  with 
his  eyes  fixed  abstractedly  on  the  frill  of  a  ham  before  him,  and 
his  hand  trifling  with  his  fork.  He  did  not  answer  immedi- 
ately, but  when  he  did,  he  looked  round  steadily  at  Harold. 

"  I  'm.  delighted  to  perceive  that  you  have  kept  yourself  so 
thoroughly  acquainted  with  English  politics." 

"  Oh,  of  course,"  said  Harold,  impatiently.  "  I  'm  aware 
how  things  have  been  going  on  in  England.  I  always  meant 
to  come  back  ultimately.  I  suppose  I  know  the  state  of  Eu- 
rope as  well  as  if  I  'd  been  stationary  at  Little  Treby  for  the 
last  fifteen  years.  If  a  man  goes  to  the  East,  people  seem  to 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  41 

think  he  gets  turned  into  something  like  the  one-eyed  calender 
in  the  '  Arabian  Nights.'  " 

"  Yet  I  should  think  there  are  some  things  which  people 
who  have  been  stationary  at  Little  Treby  could  tell  you,  Har- 
old," said  Mrs.  Transome.  "It  did  not  signify  about  your 
holding  Kadical  opinions  at  Smyrna;  but  you  seem  not  to 
imagine  how  your  putting  up  as  a  Radical  will  affect  your 
position  here,  and  the  position  of  your  family.  No  one  will 
visit  you.  And  then  —  the  sort  of  people  who  will  support 
you  !  You  really  have  no  idea  what  an  impression  it  conveys 
when  you  say  you  are  a  Radical.  There  are  none  of  our  equals 
who  will  not  feel  that  you  have  disgraced  yourself." 

"  Pooh  !  "  said  Harold,  rising  and  walking  along  the  room. 

But  Mrs.  Transome  went  on  with  growing  anger  in  her  voice 
—  "  It  seems  to  me  that  a  man  owes  something  to  his  birth 
and  station,  and  has  no  right  to  take  up  this  notion  or  the 
other,  just  as  it  suits  his  fancy  ;  still  less  to  work  at  the  over- 
throw of  his  class.  That  was  what  every  one  said  of  Lord 
Grey,  and  my  family  at  least  is  as  good  as  Lord  Grey's.  You 
have  wealth  now,  and  might  distinguish  yourself  in  the  county ; 
and  if  you  had  been  true  to  your  colors  as  a  gentleman,  you 
would  have  had  all  the  greater  opportunity  because  the  times 
are  so  bad.  The  Debarrys  and  Lord  Wyvern  would  have  set 
all  the  more  store  by  you.  For  my  part,  I  can't  conceive  what 
good  you  propose  to  yourself.  I  only  entreat  you  to  think 
again  before  you  take  any  decided  step." 

"  Mother,"  said  Harold,  not  angrily  or  with  any  raising  of 
his  voice,  but  in  a  quick,  impatient  manner,  as  if  the  scene 
must  be  got  through  as  quickly  as  possible ;  "  it  is  natural 
that  you  should  think  in  this  way.  Women,  very  properly, 
don't  change  their  views,  but  keep  to  the  notions  in  which 
they  have  been  brought  up.  It  does  n't  signify  what  they 
think  —  they  are  not  called  upon  to  judge  or  to  act.  You 
must  really  leave  me  to  take  my  own  course  in  these  matters, 
which  properly  belong  to  men.  Beyond  that,  I  will  gratify 
any  wish  you  choose  to  mention.  You  shall  have  a  new  car- 
riage and  a  pair  of  bays  all  to  yourself ;  you  shall  have  the 
house  done  up  in  first-rate  style,  and  I  am  not  thinking  of 


42  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL. 

marrying.  But  let  us  understand  that  there  shall  be  no 
further  collision  between  us  on  subjects  on  which  I  must  be 
master  of  my  own  aetions." 

"  And  you  will  put  the  crown  to  the  mortifications  of  my 
life,  Harold.  I  don't  know  who  would  be  a  mother  if  she 
could  foresee  what  a  slight  thing  she  will  be  to  her  son  when 
she  is  old." 

Mrs.  Transome  here  walked  out  of  the  room  by  the  nearest 
way  —  the  glass  door  open  towards  the  terrace.  Mr.  Jermyn 
had  risen  too,  and  his  hands  were  on  the  back  of  his  chair. 
He  looked  quite  impassive :  it  was  not  the  first  time  he  had 
seen  Mrs.  Transome  angry ;  but  now,  for  the  first  time,  he 
thought  the  outburst  of  her  temper  would  be  useful  to  him. 
She,  poor  woman,  knew  quite  well  that  she  had  been  unwise, 
and  that  she  had  been  making  herself  disagreeable  to  Harold 
to  no  purpose.  But  half  the  sorrows  of  women  would  be 
averted  if  they  could  repress  the  speech  they  know  to  be  use- 
less —  nay,  the  speech  they  have  resolved  not  to  utter.  Harold 
continued  his  walking  a  moment  longer,  and  then  said  to 
Jermyn  — 

"  You  smoke  ?  " 

"No,  I  always  defer  to  the  ladies.  Mrs.  Jermyn  is  pecu- 
liarly sensitive  in  such  matters,  and  does  n't  like  tobacco." 

Harold,  who,  underneath  all  the  tendencies  which  had  made 
him  a  Liberal,  had  intense  personal  pride,  thought,  "  Confound 
the  fellow  —  with  his  Mrs.  Jermyn  !  Does  he  think  we  are  on 
a  footing  for  me  to  know  anything  about  his  wife  ?  " 

"  Well,  I  took  my  hookah  before  breakfast,"  he  said  aloud ; 
"  so,  if  you  like,  we  '11  go  into  the  library.  My  father  never 
gets  up  till  mid-day,  I  find." 

"  Sit  down,  sit  down,"  said  Harold,  as  they  entered  the 
handsome,  spacious  library.  But  he  himself  continued  to  stand 
before  a  map  of  the  county  which  he  had  opened  from  a  series 
of  rollers  occupying  a  compartment  among  the  book-shelves. 
"  The  first  question,  Mr.  Jermyn,  now  you  know  my  intentions, 
is,  whether  you  will  undertake  to  be  my  agent  in  this  election, 
and  help  me  through  ?  There  's  no  time  to  be  lost,  and  I  don't 
want  to  lose  my  chance,  as  I  may  not  have  another  for  seven 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  43 

years.  I  understand,"  he  went  on,  flashing  a  look  straight  at 
Jermyn,  "  that  you  have  not  taken  any  conspicuous  course  in 
politics ;  and  I  know  that  Labron  is  agent  for  the  Debarrys." 

"Oh  —  a  —  my  dear  sir  —  a  man  necessarily  has  his  politi- 
cal convictions,  but  of  what  use  is  it  for  a  professional  man  — 
a  —  of  some  education,  to  talk  of  them  in  a  little  country 
town  ?  There  really  is  no  comprehension  of  public  questions  in 
such  places.  Party  feeling,  indeed,  was  quite  asleep  here  before 
the  agitation  about  the  Catholic  Belief  Bill.  It  is  true  that  I 
concurred  with  our  incumbent  in  getting  up  a  petition  against 
the  Keform  Bill,  but  I  did  not  state  my  reasons.  The  weak 
points  in  that  Bill  are  —  a  —  too  palpable,  and  I  fancy  you  and 
I  should  not  differ  much  on  that  head.  The  fact  is,  when  I 
knew  that  you  were  to  come  back  to  us,  I  kept  myself  in  re- 
serve, though  I  was  much  pressed  by  the  friends  of  Sir  James 
Clement,  the  Ministerial  candidate,  who  is  —  " 

"  However,  you  will  act  for  me  —  that 's  settled  ?  "  said 
Harold. 

"  Certainly,"  said  Jermyn,  inwardly  irritated  by  Harold's 
rapid  manner  of  cutting  him  short. 

"  Which  of  the  Liberal  candidates,  as  they  call  themselves, 
has  the  better  chance,  eh  ?  " 

"  I  was  going  to  observe  that  Sir  James  Clement  has  not  so 
good  a  chance  as  Mr.  Garstin,  supposing  that  a  third  Liberal 
candidate  presents  himself.  There  are  two  senses  in  which  a 
politician  can  be  liberal  "  —  here  Mr.  Jermyn  smiled  —  "  Sir 
James  Clement  is  a  poor  baronet,  hoping  for  an  appointment, 
and  can't  be  expected  to  be  liberal  in  that  wider  sense  which 
commands  majorities." 

"  I  wish  this  man  were  not  so  much  of  a  talker,"  thought 
Harold  ;  "  he  '11  bore  me.  We  shall  see,"  he  said  aloud,  "  what 
can  be  done  in  the  way  of  combination.  I  '11  come  down  to 
your  office  after  one  o'clock  if  it  will  suit  you  ?  " 

"  Perfectly." 

"  Ah,  and  you  '11  have  all  the  lists  and  papers  and  necessary 
information  ready  for  me  there.  I  must  get  up  a  dinner  for 
the  tenants,  and  we  can  invite  whom  we  like  besides  the  ten- 
ants. Just  now,  I  'm  going  over  one  of  the  farms  on  hand  with 


44  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL. 

the  bailiff.  By  the  way,  that 's  a  desperately  bad  business,  hav- 
ing three  farms  unlet  —  how  comes  that  about,  eh  ?  " 

"  That  is  precisely  what  I  wanted  to  say  a  few  words  about 
to  you.  You  have  observed  already  how  strongly  Mrs.  Tran- 
some  takes  certain  things  to  heart.  You  can  imagine  that  she 
has  been  severely  tried  in  many  ways.  Mr.  Transome's  want 
of  health  ;  Mr.  Durf ey's  habits  —  a  —  " 

"  Yes,  yes." 

"  She  is  a  woman  for  whom  I  naturally  entertain  the  highest 
respect,  and  she  has  had  hardly  any  gratification  for  many 
years,  except  the  sense  of  having  affairs  to  a  certain  extent  in 
her  own  hands.  She  objects  to  changes ;  she  will  not  have  a 
new  style  of  tenants ;  she  likes  the  old  stock  of  farmers  who 
milk  their  own  cows,  and  send  their  younger  daughters  out  to 
service :  all  this  makes  it  difficult  to  do  the  best  with  the  es- 
tate. I  am  aware  things  are  not  as  they  ought  to  be,  for,  in 
point  of  fact,  an  improved  agricultural  management  is  a  matter 
in  which  I  take  considerable  interest,  and  the  farm  which  I 
myself  hold  on  the  estate  you  will  see,  I  think,  to  be  in  a  su- 
perior condition.  But  Mrs.  Transome  is  a  woman  of  strong 
feeling,  and  I  would  urge  you,  my  dear  sir,  to  make  the  changes 
which  you  have,  but  which  I  had  not  the  right  to  insist  on,  as 
little  painful  to  her  as  possible." 

"  I  shall  know  what  to  do,  sir,  never  fear,"  said  Harold,  much 
offended. 

"  You  will  pardon,  I  hope,  a  perhaps  undue  freedom  of  sug- 
gestion from  a  man  of  my  age,  who  has  been  so  long  in  a  close 
connection  with  the  family  affairs  —  a  —  I  have  never  consid- 
ered that  connection  simply  in  the  light  of  business  —  a  —  " 

"Damn  him,  I'll  soon  let  him  know  that  /  do,"  thought 
Harold.  But  in  proportion  as  he  found  Jermyn's  manners 
annoying,  he  felt  the  necessity  of  controlling  himself.  He 
despised  all  persons  who  defeated  their  own  projects  by  the 
indulgence  of  momentary  impulses. 

"I  understand,  I  understand,"  he  said  aloud.  "You  ''ve 
had  more  awkward  business  on  your  hands  than  usually  falls 
to  the  share  of  a  family  lawyer.  We  shall  set  everything 
right  by  degrees.  But  now  as  to  the  canvassing.  I  've  made 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  45 

arrangements  with  a  first-rate  man  in  London,  who  understands 
these  matters  thoroughly  —  a  solicitor  of  course  —  he  has  car- 
ried no  end  of  men  into  Parliament.  I  '11  engage  him  to  meet 
us  at  Duffield  —  say  when  ?  " 

The  conversation  after  this  was  driven  carefully  clear  of  all 
angles,  and  ended  with  determined  amicableness.  When  Har- 
old, in  his  ride  an  hour  or  two  afterwards,  encountered  his 
uncle  shouldering  a  gun,  and  followed  by  one  black  and  one 
liver-spotted  pointer,  his  muscular  person  with  its  red  eagle 
face  set  off  by  a  velveteen  jacket  and  leather  leggings,  Mr. 
Lingon's  first  question  was  — 

"  Well,  lad,  how  have  you  got  on  with  Jermyn  ?  " 

"  Oh,  I  don't  think  I  shall  like  the  fellow.  He 's  a  sort  of 
amateur  gentleman.  But  I  must  make  use  of  him.  I  expect 
whatever  I  get  out  of  him  will  only  be  something  short  of 
fair  pay  for  what  he  has  got  out  of  us.  But  I  shall  see." 

"Ay,  ay,  use  his  gun  to  bring  down  your  game,  and  after 
that  beat  the  thief  with  the  butt-end.  That's  wisdom  and 
justice  and  pleasure  all  in  one  —  talking  between  ourselves  as 
uncle  and  nephew.  But  I  say,  Harold,  I  was  going  to  tell 
you,  now  I  come  to  think  of  it,  this  is  rather  a  nasty  business, 
your  calling  yourself  a  Radical.  I  've  been  turning  it  over  in 
after-dinner  speeches,  but  it  looks  awkward  —  it's  not  what 
people  are  used  to  —  it  wants  a  good  deal  of  Latin  to  make  it 
go  down.  I  shall  be  worried  about  it  at  the  sessions,  and  I 
can  think  of  nothing  neat  enough  to  carry  about  in  my  pocket 
by  way  of  answer." 

"  Nonsense,  uncle  !  I  remember  what  a  good  speechifier  you 
always  were ;  you  '11  never  be  at  a  loss.  You  only  want  a  few 
more  evenings  to  think  of  it." 

"  But  you  '11  not  be  attacking  the  Church  and  the  institu- 
tions of  the  country  —  you  '11  not  be  going  those  lengths ; 
you  '11  keep  up  the  bulwarks,  and  so  on,  eh  ?  " 

"  No,  I  shan't  attack  the  Church,  only  the  incomes  of  the 
bishops,  perhaps,  to  make  them  eke  out  the  incomes  of  the 
poor  clergy." 

"  Well,  well,  I  have  no  objection  to  that.  Nobody  likes  our 
Bishop :  he 's  all  Greek  and  greediness  ;  too  proud  to  dine 


46  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

with  his  own  father.  You  may  pepper  the  bishops  a  little. 
But  you'll  respect  the  constitution  handed  down,  &c.  —  and 
you  '11  rally  round  the  throne  —  and  the  King,  God  bless  him, 
and  the  usual  toasts,  eh  ?  " 

"  Of  course,  of  course.  I  am  a  Radical  only  in  rooting  out 
abuses." 

"  That 's  the  word  I  wanted,  my  lad ! "  said  the  Vicar, 
slapping  Harold's  knee.  "  That 's  a  spool  to  wind  a  speech  on. 
Abuses  is  the  very  word ;  and  if  anybody  shows  himself 
offended,  he  '11  put  the  cap  on  for  himself." 

"I  remove  the  rotten  timbers,"  said  Harold,  inwardly 
amused,  "  and  substitute  fresh  oak,  that 's  all." 

"  Well  done,  my  boy !  By  George,  you  '11  be  a  speaker ! 
But  I  say,  Harold,  I  hope  you  've  got  a  little  Latin  left.  This 
young  Debarry  is  a  tremendous  fellow  at  the  classics,  and 
walks  on  stilts  to  any  length.  He 's  one  of  the  new  Conser- 
vatives. Old  Sir  Maximus  does  n't  understand  him  at  all." 

"  That  won't  do  at  the  hustings,"  said  Harold.  "  He  '11  get 
knocked  off  his  stilts  pretty  quickly  there." 

"  Bless  me  !  it 's  astonishing  how  well  you  're  up  in  the 
affairs  of  the  country,  my  boy.  But  rub  up  a  few  quotations 
—  (  Quod  turpe  bonis  decebat  Crispinum '  —  and  that  sort  of 
thing  —  just  to  show  Debarry  what  you  could  do  if  you  liked. 
But  you  want  to  ride  on  ?  " 

"  Yes  ;  I  have  an  appointment  at  Treby.     Good-by." 

"  He  's  a  cleverish  chap,"  muttered  the  Vicar,  as  Harold  rode 
away.  "When  he's  had  plenty  of  English  exercise,  and 
brought  out  his  knuckle  a  bit,  he  '11  be  a  Lingon  again  as  he 
used  to  be.  I  must  go  and  see  how  Arabella  takes  his  being  a 
Radical.  It 's  a  little  awkward  ;  but  a  clergyman  must  keep 
peace  in  a  family.  Confound  it !  I  'm  not  bound  to  love 
Toryism  better  than  my  own  flesh  and  blood,  and  the  manor 
I  shoot  over.  That 's  a  heathenish,  Brutus-like  sort  of  thing, 
as  if  Providence  could  n't  take  care  of  the  country  without  my 
quarrelling  with  my  own  sister's  son  !  " 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  47 


CHAPTER  III. 

'T  was  town,  yet  country  too ;  you  felt  the  warmth 
Of  clustering  houses  in  the  wintry  time ; 
Supped  with  a  friend,  and  went  by  lantern  home. 
Yet  from  your  chamber  window  you  could  hear 
The  tiny  bleat  of  new-yeaned  lambs,  or  see 
The  children  bend  beside  the  hedgerow  banks 
To  pluck  the  primroses. 

TEEBY  MAGNA,  on  which  the  Reform  Bill  had  thrust  the 
new  honor  of  being  a  polling-place,  had  been,  at  the  beginning 
of  the  century,  quite  a  typical  old  market-town,  lying  in  pleas- 
ant sleepiness  among  green  pastures,  with  a  rush-fringed  river 
meandering  through  them.  Its  principal  street  had  various 
handsome  and  tall-windowed  brick  houses  with  walled  gardens 
behind  them  ;  and  at  the  end,  where  it  widened  into  the 
market-place,  there  was  the  cheerful  rough-stuccoed  front  of 
that  excellent  inn,  the  Marquis  of  Granby,  where  the  farmers 
put  up  their  gigs,  not  only  on  fair  and  market  days,  but  on 
exceptional  Sundays  when  they  came  to  church.  And  the 
church  was  one  of  those  fine  old  English  structures  worth 
travelling  to  see,  standing  in  a  broad  churchyard  with  a  line 
of  solemn  yew-trees  beside  it,  and  lifting  a  majestic  tower  and 
spire  far  above  the  red-and-purple  roofs  of  the  town.  It  was 
not  large  enough  to  hold  all  the  parishioners  of  a  parish  which 
stretched  over  distant  villages  and  hamlets ;  but  then  they 
were  never  so  unreasonable  as  to  wish  to  be  all  in  at  once,  and 
had  never  complained  that  the  space  of  a  large  side-chapel  was 
taken  up  by  the  tombs  of  the  Debarrys,  and  shut  in  by  a  hand- 
some iron  screen.  For  when  the  black  Benedictines  ceased  to 
pray  and  chant  in  this  church,  when  the  Blessed  Virgin  and 
St.  Gregory  were  expelled,  the  Debarrys,  as  lords  of  the  manor, 
naturally  came  next  to  Providence  and  took  the  place  of  the 
saints.  Long  before  that  time,  indeed,  there  had  been  a  Sir 
Maxinms  Debarry  who  had  been  at  the  fortifying  of  the  old 


48  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

castle,  which  now  stood  in  ruins  in  the  midst  of  the  green 
pastures,  and  with  its  sheltering  wall  towards  the  north  made 
an  excellent  strawyard  for  the  pigs  of  Wace  &  Co.,  brewers  of 
the  celebrated  Treby  beer.  Wace  &  Co.  did  not  stand  alone 
in  the  town  as  prosperous  traders  on  a  large  scale,  to  say  noth- 
ing of  those  who  had  retired  from  business;  and  in  no  country 
town  of  the  same  small  size  as  Treby  was  there  a  larger  pro- 
portion of  families  who  had  handsome  sets  of  china  without 
handles,  hereditary  punch-bowls,  and  large  silver  ladles  with 
a  Queen  Anne's  guinea  in  the  centre.  Such  people  naturally 
took  tea  and  supped  together  frequently  ;  and  as  there  was  no 
professional  man  or  tradesman  in  Treby  who  was  not  con- 
nected by  business,  if  not  by  blood,  with  the  farmers  of  the 
district,  the  richer  sort  of  these  were  much  invited,  and  gave 
invitations  in  their  turn.  They  played  at  whist,  ate  and  drank 
generously,  praised  Mr.  Pitt  and  the  war  as  keeping  up  prices 
and  religion,  and  were  very  humorous  about  each  other's  prop- 
erty, having  much  the  same  coy  pleasure  in  allusions  to  their 
secret  ability  to  purchase,  as  blushing  lasses  sometimes  have 
in  jokes  about  their  secret  preferences.  The  Rector  was 
always  of  the  Debarry  family,  associated  only  with  county 
people,  and  was  much  respected  for  his  affability ;  a  clergy- 
man who  would  have  taken  tea  with  the  townspeople  would 
have  given  a  dangerous  shock  to  the  mind  of  a  Treby 
Churchman. 

Such  was  the  old-fashioned,  grazing,  brewing,  wool-packing, 
cheese-loading  life  of  Treby  Magna,  until  there  befell  new 
conditions,  complicating  its  relation  with  the  rest  of  the  world, 
and  gradually  awakening  in  it  that  higher  consciousness  which 
is  known  to  bring  higher  pains.  First  came  the  canal ;  next, 
the  working  of  the  coal-mines  at  Sproxton,  two  miles  off  the 
town ;  and  thirdly,  the  discovery  of  a  saline  spring,  which 
suggested  to  a  too  constructive  brain  the  possibility  of  turning 
Treby  Magna  into  a  fashionable  watering-place.  So  daring 
an  idea  was  not  originated  by  a  native  Trebian,  but  by  a 
young  lawyer  who  came  from  a  distance,  knew  the  dictionary 
by  heart,  and  was  probably  an  illegitimate  son  of  somebody  or 
other.  The  idea,  although  it  promised  an  increase  of  wealth 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  49 

to  the  town,  was  not  well  received  at  first ;  ladies  objected  to 
seeing  "objects"  drawn  about  in  hand-carriages,  the  doctor 
foresaw  the  advent  of  unsound  practitioners,  and  most  retail 
tradesmen  concurred  with  him  that  new  doings  were  usually 
for  the  advantage  of  new  people.  The  more  unanswerable 
reasoners  urged  that  Treby  had  prospered  without  baths,  and 
it  was  yet  to  be  seen  how  it  would  prosper  with  them  ;  while 
a  report  that  the  proposed  name  for  them  was  Bethesda  Spa, 
threatened  to  give  the  whole  affair  a  blasphemous  aspect. 
Even  Sir  Maximus  Debarry,  who  was  to  have  an  unpre- 
cedented return  for  the  thousands  he  would  lay  out  on  a  pump- 
room  and  hotel,  regarded  the  thing  as  a  little  too  new,  and 
held  back  for  some  time.  But  the  persuasive  powers  of  the 
young  lawyer,  Mr.  Matthew  Jermyn,  together  with  the  op- 
portune opening  of  a  stone-quarry,  triumphed  at  last ;  the 
handsome  buildings  were  erected,  an  excellent  guide-book 
and  descriptive  cards,  surmounted  by  vignettes,  were  printed, 
and  Treby  Magna  became  conscious  of  certain  facts  in  its 
own  history  of  which  it  had  previously  been  in  contented 
ignorance. 

But  it  was  all  in  vain.  The  Spa,  from  some  mysterious 
reason,  did  not  succeed.  Some  attributed  the  failure  to  the 
coal-mines  and  the  canal;  others  to  the  peace,  which  had 
had  ruinous  effects  on  the  country  ;  and  others,  who  disliked 
Jermyn,  to  the  original  folly  of  the  plan.  Among  these  last 
was  Sir  Maximus  himself,  who  never  forgave  the  too  persua- 
sive attorney  ;  it  was  Jermyn's  fault  not  only  that  a  useless 
hotel  had  been  built,  but  that  he,  Sir  Maximus,  being  strait- 
ened for  money,  had  at  last  let  the  building,  with  the  adjacent 
land  lying  on  the  river,  on  a  long  lease,  on  the  supposition 
that  it  was  to  be  turned  into  a  benevolent  college,  and  had  seen 
himself  subsequently  powerless  to  prevent  its  being  turned 
into  a  tape  manufactory  —  a  bitter  thing  to  any  gentleman, 
and  especially  to  the  representative  of  one  of  the  oldest  fami- 
lies in  England. 

In  this  way  it  happened  that  Treby  Magna  gradually  passed 
from  being  simply  a  respectable  market-town  —  the  heart  of 
a  great  rural  district,  where  the  trade  was  only  such  as  had 

VOL.    III.  4 


50  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

close  relations  with  the  local  landed  interest  —  and  took  on  the 
more  complex  life  brought  by  mines  and  manufactures,  which 
belong  more  directly  to  the  great  circulating  system  of  the  nation 
than  to  the  local  system  to  which  they  have  been  superadded ; 
and  in  this  way  it  was  that  Trebian  Dissent  gradually  altered 
its  character.  Formerly  it  had  been  of  a  quiescent,  well-to-do 
kind,  represented  architecturally  by  a  small,  venerable,  dark- 
pewed  chapel,  built  by  Presbyterians,  but  long  occupied  by 
a  sparse  congregation  of  Independents,  who  were  as  little 
moved  by  doctrinal  zeal  as  their  church-going  neighbors,  and 
did  not  feel  themselves  deficient  in  religious  liberty,  inasmuch 
as  they  were  not  hindered  from  occasionally  slumbering  in 
their  pews,  and  were  not  obliged  to  go  regularly  to  the 
weekly  prayer-meeting.  But  when  stone-pits  and  coal-pits 
made  new  hamlets  that  threatened  to  spread  up  to  the  very 
town,  when  the  tape-weavers  came  with  their  news-reading 
inspectors  and  book-keepers,  the  Independent  chapel  began  to 
be  filled  with  eager  men  and  women,  to  whom  the  exceptional 
possession  of  religious  truth  was  the  condition  which  recon- 
ciled them  to  a  meagre  existence,  and  made  them  feel  in 
secure  alliance  with  the  unseen  but  supreme  rule  of  a  world 
in  which  their  own  visible  part  was  small.  There  were 
Dissenters  in  Treby  now  who  could  not  be  regarded  by  the 
Church  people  in  the  light  of  old  neighbors  to  whom  the 
habit  of  going  to  chapel  was  an  innocent,  unenviable  inheri- 
tance along  with  a  particular  house  and  garden,  a  tan-yard,  or 
a  grocery  business  —  Dissenters  who,  in  their  turn,  without 
meaning  to  be  in  the  least  abusive,  spoke  of  the  high-bred 
Rector  as  a  blind  leader  of  the  blind.  And  Dissent  was  not 
the  only  thing  that  the  times  had  altered  ;  prices  had  fallen, 
poor-rates  had  risen,  rent  and  tithe  were  not  elastic  enough, 
and  the  farmer's  fat  sorrow  had  become  lean ;  he  began  to 
speculate  on  causes,  and  to  trace  things  back  to  that  causeless 
mystery,  the  cessation  of  one-pound  notes.  Thus,  when  po- 
litical agitation  swept  in  a  great  current  through  the  country, 
Treby  Magna  was  prepared  to  vibrate.  The  Catholic  Eman- 
cipation Bill  opened  the  eyes  of  neighbors,  and  made  them 
aware  how  very  injurious  they  were  to  each  other  and  to  the 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  51 

welfare  of  mankind  generally.  Mr.  Tiliot,  the  Church  spirit- 
merchant,  knew  now  that  Mr.  Nuttwood,  the  obliging  grocer, 
was  one  of  those  Dissenters,  Deists,  Socinians,  Papists,  and 
Radicals,  who  were  in  league  to  destroy  the  Constitution. 
A  retired  old  London  tradesman,  who  was  believed  to  under- 
stand politics,  said  that  thinking  people  must  wish  George  the 
Third  alive  again  in  all  his  early  vigor  of  mind ;  and  even  the 
farmers  became  less  materialistic  in  their  view  of  causes,  and 
referred  much  to  the  agency  of  the  devil  and  the  Irish  Ro- 
mans. The  Rector,  the  Rev.  Augustus  Debarry,  really  a  fine 
specimen  of  the  old-fashioned  aristocratic  clergyman,  preach- 
ing short  sermons,  understanding  business,  and  acting  liber- 
ally about  his  tithe,  had  never  before  found  himself  in 
collision  with  Dissenters;  but  now  he  began  to  feel  that 
these  people  were  a  nuisance  in  the  parish,  that  his  brother 
Sir  Maximus  must  take  care  lest  they  should  get  land  to  build 
more  chapels,  and  that  it  might  not  have  been  a  bad  thing  if 
the  law  had  furnished  him  as  a  magistrate  with  a  power  of 
putting  a  stop  to  the  political  sermons  of  the  Independent 
preacher,  which,  in  their  way,  were  as  pernicious  sources  of 
intoxication  as  the  beerhouses.  The  Dissenters,  on  their  side, 
were  not  disposed  to  sacrifice  the  cause  of  truth  and  freedom 
to  a  temporizing  mildness  of  language ;  but  they  defended 
themselves  from  the  charge  of  religious  indifference,  and 
solemnly  disclaimed  any  lax  expectations  that  Catholics  were 
likely  to  be  saved  —  urging,  on  the  contrary,  that  they  were 
not  too  hopeful  about  Protestants  who  adhered  to  a  bloated 
and  worldly  Prelacy.  Thus  Treby  Magna,  which  had  lived 
quietly  through  the  great  earthquakes  of  the  French  Revolu- 
tion and  the  Napoleonic  wars,  which  had  remained  unmoved 
by  the  "Rights  of  Man,"  and  saw  little  in  Mr.  Cobbett's 
"  Weekly  Register  "  except  that  he  held  eccentric  views  about 
potatoes,  began  at  last  to  know  the  higher  pains  of  a  dim 
political  consciousness  ;  and  the  development  had  been  greatly 
helped  by  the  recent  agitation  about  the  Reform  Bill.  Tory, 
Whig,  and  Radical  did  not  perhaps  become  clearer  in  their 
definition  of  each  other ;  but  the  names  seemed  to  acquire  so 
strong  a  stamp  of  honor  or  infamy,  that  definitions  would 


52  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

only  have  weakened  the  impression.  As  to  the  short  and  easy 
method  of  judging  opinions  by  the  personal  character  of  those 
who  held  them,  it  was  liable  to  be  much  frustrated  in  Treby. 
It  so  happened  in  that  particular  town  that  the  Reformers 
were  not  all  of  them  large-hearted  patriots  or  ardent  lovers  of 
justice ;  indeed,  one  of  them,  in  the  very  midst  of  the  agita- 
tion, was  detected  in  using  unequal  scales  —  a  fact  to  which 
many  Tories  pointed  with  disgust  as  showing  plainly  enough, 
without  further  argument,  that  the  cry  for  a  change  in  the 
representative  system  was  hollow  trickery.  Again,  the  Tories 
were  far  from  being  all  oppressors,  disposed  to  grind  down 
the  working  classes  into  serfdom ;  and  it  was  undeniable  that 
the  inspector  at  the  tape  manufactory,  who  spoke  with  much 
eloquence  on  the  extension  of  the  suffrage,  was  a  more  tyran- 
nical personage  than  open-handed  Mr.  Wace,  whose  chief 
political  tenet  was,  that  it  was  all  nonsense  giving  men  votes 
when  they  had  no  stake  in  the  country.  On  the  other  hand, 
there  were  some  Tories  who  gave  themselves  a  great  deal  of 
leisure  to  abuse  hypocrites,  Kadicals,  Dissenters,  and  atheism 
generally,  but  whose  inflamed  faces,  theistic  swearing,  and 
frankness  in  expressing  a  wish  to  borrow,  certainly  did  not 
mark  them  out  strongly  as  holding  opinions  likely  to  save 
society. 

The  Eeformers  had  triumphed  ;  it  was  clear  that  the  wheels 
were  going  whither  they  were  pulling,  and  they  were  in  fine 
spirits  for  exertion.  But  if  they  were  pulling  towards  the 
country's  ruin,  there  was  the  more  need  for  others  to  hang  on 
behind  and  get  the  wheels  to  stick  if  possible.  In  Treby,  as 
elsewhere,  people  were  told  they  must  "  rally  "  at  the  coming 
election ;  but  there  was  now  a  large  number  of  waverers  — 
men  of  flexible,  practical  minds,  who  were  not  such  bigots  as 
to  cling  to  any  views  when  a  good  tangible  reason  could  be 
urged  against  them ;  while  some  regarded  it  as  the  most  neigh- 
borly thing  to  hold  a  little  with  both  sides,  and  were  not  sure 
that  they  should  rally  or  vote  at  all.  It  seemed  an  invidious 
thing  to  vote  for  one  gentleman  rather  than  another. 

These  social  changes  in  Treby  parish  are  comparatively 
public  matters,  and  this  history  is  chiefly  concerned  with  the 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  53 

private  lot  of  a  few  men  and  women :  but  there  is  no  private 
life  which  has  not  been  determined  by  a  wider  public  life,  from 
the  time  when  the  primeval  milkmaid  had  to  wander  with  the 
wanderings  of  her  clan,  because  the  cow  she  milked  was  one 
of  a  herd  which  had  made  the  pastures  bare.  Even  in  that 
conservatory  existence  where  the  fair  Camellia  is  sighed  for 
by  the  noble  young  Pine-apple,  neither  of  them  needing  to 
care  about  the  frost  or  rain  outside,  there  is  a  nether  apparatus 
of  hot-water  pipes  liable  to  cool  down  on  a  strike  of  the  gar- 
deners or  a  scarcity  of  coal.  And  the  lives  we  are  about  to 
look  back  upon  do  not  belong  to  those  conservatory  species ; 
they  are  rooted  in  the  common  earth,  having  to  endure  all  the 
ordinary  chances  of  past  and  present  weather.  As  to  the 
weather  of  1832,  the  Zadkiel  of  that  time  had  predicted  that 
the  electrical  condition  of  the  clouds  in  the  political  hemi- 
sphere would  produce  unusual  perturbations  in  organic  exist- 
ence, and  he  would  perhaps  have  seen  a  fulfilment  of  his 
remarkable  prophecy  in  that  mutual  influence  of  dissimilar 
destinies  which  we  shall  see  gradually  unfolding  itself.  For 
if  the  mixed  political  conditions  of  Treby  Magna  had  not 
been  acted  on  by  the  passing  of  the  Keform  Bill,  Mr.  Harold 
Transome  would  not  have  presented  himself  as  a  candidate  for 
North  Loamshire,  Treby  would  not  have  been  a  polling-place, 
Mr.  Matthew  Jermyn  would  not  have  been  on  affable  terms 
with  a  Dissenting  preacher  and  his  flock,  and  the  venerable 
town  would  not  have  been  placarded  with  handbills,  more  or 
less  complimentary  and  retrospective  —  conditions  in  this  case 
essential  to  the  "  where,"  and  the  "  what,"  without  which,  as 
the  learned  know,  there  can  be  no  event  whatever. 

For  example,  it  was  through  these  conditions  that  a  young 
man  named  Felix  Holt  made  a  considerable  difference  in  the 
life  of  Harold  Transome,  though  nature  and  fortune  seemed  to 
have  done  what  they  could  to  keep  the  lots  of  the  two  men 
quite  aloof  from  each  other.  Felix  was  heir  to  nothing  better 
than  a  quack  medicine  ;  his  mother  lived  up  a  back  street  in 
Treby  Magna,  and  her  sitting-room  was  ornamented  with  her 
best  tea-tray  and  several  framed  testimonials  to  the  virtues  of 
Holt's  Cathartic  Lozenges  and  Holt's  Restorative  Elixir.  There 


54  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

could  hardly  have  been  a  lot  less  like  Harold  Transome's  than 
this  of  the  quack  doctor's  son,  except  in  the  superficial  facts 
that  he  called  himself  a  Eadical,  that  he  was  the  only  son  of 
his  mother,  and  that  he  had  lately  returned  to  his  home  with 
ideas  and  resolves  not  a  little  disturbing  to  that  mother's 
mind. 

But  Mrs.  Holt,  unlike  Mrs.  Transome,  was  much  disposed 
to  reveal  her  troubles,  and  was  not  without  a  counsellor  into 
whose  ear  she  could  pour  them.  On  this  2d  of  September, 
when  Mr.  Harold  Transome  had  had  his  first  interview  with 
Jermyn,  and  when  the  attorney  went  back  to  his  office  with 
new  views  of  canvassing  in  his  mind,  Mrs.  Holt  had  put  on 
her  bonnet  as  early  as  nine  o'clock  in  the  morning,  and  had 
gone  to  see  the  Rev.  Rufus  Lyon,  minister  of  the  Independent 
Chapel  usually  spoken  of  as  "  Malthouse  Yard." 


CHAPTER  IV. 
A  pious  and  painful  preacher.  —  FULLER. 

MB.  LYON  lived  in  a  small  house,  not  quite  so  good  as  the 
parish  clerk's,  adjoining  the  entry  which  led  to  the  Chapel 
Yard.  The  new  prosperity  of  Dissent  at  Treby  had  led  to  an 
enlargement  of  the  chapel,  which  absorbed  all  extra  funds  and 
left  none  for  the  enlargement  of  the  minister's  income.  He 
sat  this  morning,  as  usual,  in  a  low  up-stairs  room,  called  his 
study,  which,  by  means  of  a  closet  capable  of  holding  his  bed, 
served  also  as  a  sleeping-room.  The  book-shelves  did  not  suf- 
fice for  his  store  of  old  books,  which  lay  about  him  in  piles  so 
arranged  as  to  leave  narrow  lanes  between  them ;  for  the  min- 
ister was  much  given  to  walking  about  during  his  hours  of 
meditation,  and  very  narrow  passages  would  serve  for  his 
small  legs,  unencumbered  by  any  other  drapery  than  his  black 
silk  stockings  and  the  flexible,  though  prominent,  bows  of 
black  ribbon  that  tied  his  knee-breeches.  He  was  walking 


FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL.  55 

about  now,  with  his  hands  clasped  behind  him,  an  attitude  in 
which  his  body  seemed  to  bear  about  the  same  proportion  to 
his  head  as  the  lower  part  of  a  stone  Hermes  bears  to  the  car- 
ven  image  that  crowns  it.  His  face  looked  old  and  worn,  yet 
the  curtain  of  hair  that  fell  from  his  bald  crown  and  hung 
about  his  neck  retained  much  of  its  original  auburn  tint,  and 
his  large,  brown,  short-sighted  eyes  were  still  clear  and  bright. 
At  the  first  glance,  every  one  thought  him  a  very  odd-looking 
rusty  old  man  ;  the  free-school  boys  often  hooted  after  him, 
and  called  him  "  Revelations  ; "  and  to  many  respectable 
Church  people,  old  Lyon's  little  legs  and  large  head  seemed 
to  make  Dissent  additionally  preposterous.  But  he  was  too 
short-sighted  to  notice  those  who  tittered  at  him  —  too  absent 
from  the  world  of  small  facts  and  petty  impulses  in  which  tit- 
terers  live.  With  Satan  to  argue  against  on  matters  of  vital  ex- 
perience as  well  as  of  church  government,  with  great  texts  to 
meditate  on,  which  seemed  to  get  deeper  as  he  tried  to  fathom 
them,  it  had  never  occurred  to  him  to  reflect  what  sort  of  image 
his  small  person  made  on  the  retina  of  alight-minded  beholder. 
The  good  Rufus  had  his  ire  and  his  egoism  ;  but  they  existed 
only  as  the  red  heat  which  gave  force  to  his  belief  and  his 
teaching.  He  was  susceptible  concerning  the  true  office  of 
deacons  in  the  primitive  Church,  and  his  small  nervous  body 
was  jarred  from  head  to  foot  by  the  concussion  of  an  argu- 
ment to  which  he  saw  no  answer.  In  fact,  the  only  moments 
when  he  could  be  said  to  be  really  conscious  of  his  body, 
were  when  he  trembled  under  the  pressure  of  some  agitating 
thought. 

He  was  meditating  on  the  text  for  his  Sunday  morning  ser- 
mon, "  And  all  the  people  said,  Amen  "  —  a  mere  mustard- 
seed  of  a  text,  which  had  split  at  first  only  into  two  divisions, 
"  What  was  said,"  and  "  Who  said  it ; "  but  these  were  grow- 
ing into  a  many-branched  discourse,  and  the  preacher's  eyes 
dilated,  and  a  smile  played  about  his  mouth  till,  as  his  manner 
was,  when  he  felt  happily  inspired,  he  had  begun  to  utter  his 
thoughts  aloud  in  the  varied  measure  and  cadence  habitual 
to  him,  changing  from  a  rapid  but  distinct  undertone  to  a  loud 
emphatic  rallentando. 


56  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

"  My  brethren,  do  you  think  that  great  shout  was  raised  in 
Israel  by  each  man's  waiting  to  say  '  amen '  till  his  neighbors 
had  said  amen  ?  Do  you  think  there  will  ever  be  a  great 
shout  for  the  right  —  the  shout  of  a  nation  as  of  one  man, 
rounded  and  whole,  like  the  voice  of  the  archangel  that  bound 
together  all  the  listeners  of  earth  and  heaven  —  if  every  Chris- 
tian of  you  peeps  round  to  see  what  his  neighbors  in  good 
coats  are  doing,  or  else  puts  his  hat  before  his  face  that  he 
may  shout  and  never  be  heard  ?  But  this  is  what  you  do : 
when  the  servant  of  God  stands  up  to  deliver  his  message,  do 
you  lay  your  souls  beneath  the  Word  as  you  set  out  your  plants 
beneath  the  falling  rain  ?  No  ;  one  of  you  sends  his  eyes  to 
all  corners,  he  smothers  his  soul  with  small  questions,  '  What 
does  brother  Y.  think ? '  'Is  this  doctrine  high  enough  for 
brother  Z.  ? '  '  Will  the  church  members  be  pleased  ? '  And 
another  —  " 

Here  the  door  was  opened,  and  old  Lyddy,  the  minister's 
servant,  put  in  her  head  to  say,  in  a  tone  of  despondency,  fin- 
ishing with  a  groan,  "  Here  is  Mrs.  Holt  wanting  to  speak 
to  you ;  she  says  she  comes  out  of  season,  but  she 's  in 
trouble." 

"  Lyddy,"  said  Mr.  Lyon,  falling  at  once  into  a  quiet  conver- 
sational tone,  "  if  you  are  wrestling  with  the  enemy,  let  me 
refer  you  to  Ezekiel  the  thirteenth  and  twenty-second,  and  beg 
of  you  not  to  groan.  It  is  a  stumbling-block  and  offence  to 
my  daughter ;  she  would  take  no  broth  yesterday,  because  she 
said  you  had  cried  into  it.  Thus  you  cause  the  truth  to  be 
lightly  spoken  of,  and  make  the  enemy  rejoice.  If  your  face- 
ache  gives  him  an  advantage,  take  a  little  warm  ale  with  your 
meat  —  I  do  not  grudge  the  money." 

"If  I  thought  my  drinking  warm  ale  would  hinder  poor 
dear  Miss  Esther  from  speaking  light  —  but  she  hates  the 
smell  of  it." 

"Answer  not  again,  Lyddy,  but  send  up  Mistress  Holt  to 
me." 

Lyddy  closed  the  door  immediately. 

"I  lack  grace  to  deal  with  these  weak  sisters,"  said  the 
minister,  again  thinking  aloud,  and  walking.  "  Their  needs 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  57 

lie  too  much  out  of  the  track  of  my  meditations,  and  take  me 
often  unawares.  Mistress  Holt  is  another  who  darkens  coun- 
sel by  words  without  knowledge,  and  angers  the  reason  of 
the  natural  man.  Lord,  give  me  patience.  My  sins  were  heav- 
ier to  bear  than  this  woman's  folly.  Come  in,  Mrs.  Holt  — 
come  in." 

He  hastened  to  disencumber  a  chair  of  Matthew  Henry's 
Commentary,  and  begged  his  visitor  to  be  seated.  She  was  a 
tall  elderly  woman,  dressed  in  black,  with  a  light-brown  front 
and  a  black  band  over  her  forehead.  She  moved  the  chair  a 
little  and  seated  herself  in  it  with  some  emphasis,  looking 
fixedly  at  the  opposite  wall  with  a  hurt  and  argumentative  ex- 
pression. Mr.  Lyon  had  placed  himself  in  the  chair  against 
his  desk,  and  waited  with  the  resolute  resignation  of  a  patient 
who  is  about  to  undergo  an  operation.  But  his  visitor  did  not 
speak. 

"  You  have  something  on  your  mind,  Mrs.  Holt  ?  "  he  said, 
at  last. 

"  Indeed  I  have,  sir,  else  I  should  n't  be  here." 

"  Speak  freely." 

"  It 's  well  known  to  you,  Mr.  Lyon,  that  my  husband,  Mr. 
Holt,  came  from  the  north,  and  was  a  member  in  Malthouse 
Yard  long  before  you  began  to  be  pastor  of  it,  which  was  seven 
year  ago  last  Michaelmas.  It 's  the  truth,  Mr.  Lyon,  and  I  'm 
not  that  woman  to  sit  here  and  say  it  if  it  was  n't  true." 

"  Certainly,  it  is  true." 

"  And  if  my  husband  had  been  alive  when  you  'd  come  to 
preach  upon  trial,  he  'd  have  been  as  good  a  judge  of  your  gifts 
as  Mr.  Nuttwood  or  Mr.  Muscat,  though  whether  he  'd  have 
agreed  with  some  that  your  doctrine  was  n't  high  enough,  I 
can't  say.  For  myself,  I  've  my  opinion  about  high  doctrine." 

"  Was  it  my  preaching  you  came  to  speak  about  ?  "  said  the 
minister,  hurrying  in  the  question. 

"No,  Mr.  Lyon,  I'm  not  that  woman.  But  this  I  u-ill  say, 
for  my  husband  died  before  your  time,  that  he  had  a  wonder- 
ful gift  in  prayer,  as  the  old  members  well  know,  if  anybody 
likes  to  ask  'em,  not  believing  my  words  ;  and  he  believed  him- 
self that  the  receipt  for  the  Cancer  Cure,  which  I  've  sent  out 


58  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

in  bottles  till  this  very  last  April  before  September  as  now  is, 
and  have  bottles  standing  by  me,  —  he  believed  it  was  sent 
to  him  in  answer  to  prayer ;  and  nobody  can  deny  it,  for  he 
prayed  most  regular,  and  read  out  of  the  green  baize  Bible." 

Mrs.  Holt  paused,  appearing  to  think  that  Mr.  Lyon  had 
been  successfully  confuted,  and  should  show  himself  convinced. 

"  Has  any  one  been  aspersing  your  husband's  character  ?  " 
said  Mr.  Lyon,  with  a  slight  initiative  towards  that  relief  of 
groaning  for  which  he  had  reproved  Lyddy. 

"  Sir,  they  dared  n't.  For  though  he  was  a  man  of  prayer, 
he  did  n't  want  skill  and  knowledge  to  find  things  out  for  him- 
self ;  and  that  was  what  I  used  to  say  to  my  friends  when 
they  wondered  at  my  marrying  a  man  from  Lancashire,  with  no 
trade  nor  fortune  but  what  he  'd  got  in  his  head.  But  my  hus- 
band's tongue  'ud  have  been  a  fortune  to  anybody,  and  there 
was  many  a  one  said  it  was  as  good  as  a  dose  of  physic  to  hear 
him  talk ;  not  but  what  that  got  him  into  trouble  in  Lanca- 
shire, but  he  always  said,  if  the  worst  came  to  the  worst,  he 
could  go  and  preach  to  the  blacks.  But  he  did  better  than 
that,  Mr.  Lyon,  for  he  married  me ;  and  this  I  will  say,  that 
for  age,  and  conduct,  and  managing  —  " 

"  Mistress  Holt,"  interrupted  the  minister,  "  these  are  not 
the  things  whereby  we  may  edify  one  another.  Let  me  beg 
of  you  to  be  as  brief  as  you  can.  My  time  is  not  my  own." 

"  Well,  Mr.  Lyon,  I  've  a  right  to  speak  to  my  own  char- 
acter ;  and  I  'm  one  of  your  congregation,  though  I  'm  not  a 
church  member,  for  I  was  born  in  the  General  Baptist  connec- 
tion :  and  as  for  being  saved  without  works,  there 's  a  many, 
I  dare  say,  can't  do  without  that  doctrine ;  but  I  thank  the 
Lord  I  never  needed  to  put  myself  on  a  level  with  the  thief  on 
the  cross.  I  've  done  my  duty,  and  more,  if  anybody  comes  to 
that ;  for  I  've  gone  without  my  bit  of  meat  to  make  broth  for 
a  sick  neighbor :  and  if  there 's  any  of  the  church  members  say 
they  've  done  the  same,  I  'd  ask  them  if  they  had  the  sinking 
at  the  stomach  as  I  have  ;  for  I  've  ever  strove  to  do  the  right 
thing,  and  more,  for  good-natured  I  always  was  ;  and  I  little 
thought,  after  being  respected  by  everybody,  I  should  come 
to  be  reproached  by  my  own  son.  And  my  husband  said,  when 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  59 

he  was  a-dying  — '  Mary,'  he  said,  '  the  Elixir,  and  the  Pills, 
and  the  Cure  will  support  you,  for  they  've  a  great  name  in  all 
the  country  round,  and  you  '11  pray  for  a  blessing  on  them.' 
And  so  I  have  done,  Mr.  Lyon ;  and  to  say  they  're  not  good 
medicines,  when  they  've  been  taken  for  fifty  miles  round  by 
high  and  low,  and  rich  and  poor,  and  nobody  speaking  against 
'em  but  Dr.  Lukiu,  it  seems  to  me  it 's  a  flying  in  the  face  of 
Heaven ;  for  if  it  was  wrong  to  take  the  medicines,  could  n't 
the  blessed  Lord  have  stopped  it  ?  " 

Mrs.  Holt  was  not  given  to  tears  ;  she  was  much  sustained 
by  conscious  unimpeachableness,  and  by  an  argumentative  ten- 
dency which  usually  checks  the  too  great  activity  of  the  lach- 
rymal gland ;  nevertheless  her  eyes  had  become  moist,  her 
fingers  played  on  her  knee  in  an  agitated  manner,  and  she 
finally  plucked  a  bit  of  her  gown  and  held  it  with  great  nicety 
between  her  thumb  and  finger.  Mr.  Lyon,  however,  by  listen- 
ing attentively,  had  begun  partly  to  divine  the  source  of  her 
trouble. 

"Am  I  wrong  in  gathering  from  what  you  say,  Mistress 
Holt,  that  your  son  has  objected  in  some  way  to  your  sale  of 
your  late  husband's  medicines  ?  " 

"  Mr.  Lyon,  he 's  masterful  beyond  everything,  and  he  talks 
more  than  his  father  did.  I  've  got  my  reason,  Mr.  Lyon,  and 
if  anybody  talks  sense  I  can  follow  him ;  but  Felix  talks  so 
wild,  and  contradicts  his  mother.  And  what  do  you  think  he 
says,  after  giving  up  his  'prenticeship,  and  going  off  to  study 
at  Glasgow,  and  getting  through  all  the  bit  of  money  his  father 
saved  for  his  bringing-up  —  what  has  all  his  learning  come  to  ? 
He  says  I  'd  better  never  open  my  Bible,  for  it 's  as  bad  poison 
to  me  as  the  pills  are  to  half  the  people  as  swallow  'em.  You'll 
not  speak  of  this  again,  Mr.  Lyon  —  I  don't  think  ill  enough 
of  you  to  believe  that.  For  I  suppose  a  Christian  can  under- 
stand the  word  o'  God  without  going  to  Glasgow,  and  there 's 
texts  upon  texts  about  ointment  and  medicine,  and  there 's 
one  as  might  have  been  made  for  a  receipt  of  my  husband's 
—  it 's  just  as  if  it  was  a  riddle,  and  Holt's  Elixir  was  the 
answer." 

"  Your  son  uses  rash  words,  Mistress  Holt,"  said  the  min- 


60  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

ister,  "  but  it  is  quite  true  that  we  may  err  in  giving  a  too 
private  interpretation  to  the  Scripture.  The  word  of  God  has 
to  satisfy  the  larger  needs  of  his  people,  like  the  rain  and  the 
sunshine  —  which  no  man  must  think  to  be  meant  for  his  own 
patch  of  seed-ground  solely.  Will  it  not  be  well  that  I  should 
see  your  son,  and  talk  with  him  on  these  matters  ?  He  was  at 
chapel,  I  observed,  and  I  suppose  I  am  to  be  his  pastor." 

"  That  was  what  I  wanted  to  ask  you,  Mr.  Lyon.  For  per- 
haps he  '11  listen  to  you,  and  not  talk  you  down  as  he  does  his 
poor  mother.  For  after  we  'd  been  to  chapel,  he  spoke  better 
of  you  than  he  does  of  most :  he  said  you  was  a  fine  old  fellow, 
and  an  old-fashioned  Puritan  —  he  uses  dreadful  language, 
Mr.  Lyon ;  but  I  saw  he  did  n't  mean  you  ill,  for  all  that.  He 
calls  most  folks'  religion  rottenness ;  and  yet  another  time 
he  '11  tell  me  I  ought  to  feel  myself  a  sinner,  and  do  God's  will 
and  not  my  own.  But  it 's  my  belief  he  says  first  one  thing 
and  then  another  only  to  abuse  his  mother.  Or  else  he 's  going 
off  his  head,  and  must  be  sent  to  a  'sylum.  But  if  he  writes 
to  the  '  North  Loamshire  Herald '  first,  to  tell  everybody  the 
medicines  are  good  for  nothing,  how  can  I  ever  keep  him  and 
myself?" 

"  Tell  him  I  shall  feel  favored  if  he  will  come  and  see  me 
this  evening,"  said  Mr.  Lyon,  not  without  a  little  prejudice  in 
favor  of  the  young  man,  whose  language  about  the  preacher 
in  Malthouse  Yard  did  not  seem  to  him  to  be  altogether  dread- 
ful. "Meanwhile,  my  friend,  I  counsel  you  to  send  up  a  sup- 
plication, which  I  shall  not  fail  to  offer  also,  that  you  may 
receive  a  spirit  of  humility  and  submission,  so  that  you  may 
not  be  hindered  from  seeing  and  following  the  Divine  guidance 
in  this  matter  by  any  false  lights  of  pride  and  obstinacy.  Of 
this  more  when  I  have  spoken  with  your  son." 

"  I  'm  not  proud  or  obstinate,  Mr.  Lyon.  I  never  did  say  I 
was  everything  that  was  bad,  and  I  never  will.  And  why  this 
trouble  should  be  sent  on  me  above  everybody  else  —  for  I 
haven't  told  you  all.  He's  made  himself  a  journeyman  to 
Mr.  Prowd  the  watchmaker  —  after  all  this  learning  —  and  he 
says  he  '11  go  with  patches  on  his  knees,  and  he  shall  like  him- 
self the  better.  And  as  for  his  having  little  boys  to  teach, 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  61 

they  '11  come  in  all  weathers  with  dirty  shoes.  If  it 's  madness, 
Mr.  Lyon,  it 's  no  use  your  talking  to  him." 

"We  shall  see.  Perhaps  it  may  even  be  the  disguised 
working  of  grace  within  him.  We  must  not  judge  rashly. 
Many  eminent  servants  of  God  have  been  led  by  ways  as 
strange." 

"  Then  I  'm  sorry  for  their  mothers,  that 's  all,  Mr.  Lyon ; 
and  all  the  more  if  they  'd  been  well-spoken-on  women.  For 
not  my  biggest  enemy,  whether  it 's  he  or  she,  if  they  '11  speak 
the  truth,  can  turn  round  and  say  I  've  deserved  this  trouble. 
And  when  everybody  gets  their  due,  and  people's  doings  are 
spoke  of  on  the  house-tops,  as  the  Bible  says  they  will  be,  it  '11 
be  known  what  I  've  gone  through  with  those  medicines  —  the 
pounding  and  the  pouring,  and  the  letting  stand,  and  the  weigh- 
ing —  up  early  and  down  late  —  there 's  nobody  knows  yet  but 
One  that 's  worthy  to  know ;  and  the  pasting  o'  the  printed 
labels  right  side  upwards.  There  's  few  women  would  have 
gone  through  with  it ;  and  it 's  reasonable  to  think  it  '11  be 
made  up  to  me  ;  for  if  there  's  promised  and  purchased  bless- 
ings, I  should  think  this  trouble  is  purchasing  'em.  For  if 
my  son  Felix  does  n't  have  a  strait-waistcoat  put  on  him,  he  '11 
have  his  way.  But  I  say  no  more.  I  wish  you  good-morning, 
Mr.  Lyon,  and  thank  you,  though  I  well  know  it 's  your  duty 
to  act  as  you  're  doing.  And  I  never  troubled  you  about  my 
own  soul,  as  some  do  who  look  down  on  me  for  not  being  a 
church  member." 

"  Farewell,  Mistress  Holt,  farewell.  I  pray  that  a  more  pow- 
erful teacher  than  I  am  may  instruct  you." 

The  door  was  closed,  and  the  much-tried  Eufus  walked  about 
again,  saying  aloud,  groaningly  — 

"  This  woman  has  sat  under  the  Gospel  all  her  life,  and  she 
is  as  blind  as  a  heathen,  and  as  proud  and  stiff-necked  as  a 
Pharisee  ;  yet  she  is  one  of  the  souls  I  watch  for.  'T  is  true 
that  even  Sara,  the  chosen  mother  of  God's  people,  showed 
a  spirit  of  unbelief,  and  perhaps  of  selfish  anger ;  and  it  is  a 
passage  that  bears  the  unmistakable  signet,  '  doing  honor  to 
the  wife  or  woman,  as  unto  the  weaker  vessel.'  For  therein  is 
the  greatest  check  put  on  the  ready  scorn  of  the  natural  man." 


62  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 


CHAPTER  V. 

IST  CITIZEH.    Sir,  there 's  a  hurry  in  the  veins  of  youth 

That  makes  a  vice  of  virtue  by  excess. 
2o  CITIZEN.     What  if  the  coolness  of  our  tardier  veins 

Be  loss  of  virtue  ? 
IST  CITIZEN.  All  things  cool  with  time  — 

The  sun  itself,  they  say,  till  heat  shall  find 

A  general  level,  nowhere  in  excess. 
2D  CITIZEN.     'T  is  a  poor  climax,  to  my  weaker  thought, 

That  future  middlingness. 

IN  the  evening,  when  Mr.  Lyon  was  expecting  the  knock  at 
the  door  that  would  announce  Felix  Holt,  he  occupied  his 
cushionless  arm-chair  in  the  sitting-room,  and  was  skimming 
rapidly,  in  his  short-sighted  way,  by  the  light  of  one  candle, 
the  pages  of  a  missionary  report,  emitting  occasionally  a  slight 
"Hm-m"  that  appeared  to  be  expressive  of  criticism  rather 
than  of  approbation.  The  room  was  dismally  furnished,  the 
only  objects  indicating  an  intention  of  ornament  being  a  book- 
case, a  map  of  the  Holy  Land,  an  engraved  portrait  of  Dr. 
Doddridge,  and  a  black  bust  with  a  colored  face,  which  for 
some  reason  or  other  was  covered  with  green  gauze.  Yet  any 
one  whose  attention  was  quite  awake  must  have  been  aware, 
even  on  entering,  of  certain  things  that  were  incongruous  with 
the  general  air  of  sombreness  and  privation.  There  was  a  deli- 
cate scent  of  dried  rose-leaves ;  the  light  by  which  the  minis- 
ter was  reading  was  a  wax-candle  in  a  white  earthenware 
candlestick,  and  the  table  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  fireplace 
held  a  dainty  work-basket  frilled  with  blue  satin. 

Felix  Holt,  when  he  entered,  was  not  in  an  observant  mood; 
and  when,  after  seating  himself,  at  the  minister's  invitation, 
near  the  little  table  which  held  the  work-basket,  he  stared  at 
the  wax-candle  opposite  to  him,  he  did  so  without  any  wonder 
or  consciousness  that  the  candle  was  not  of  tallow.  But  the 
minister's  sensitiveness  gave  another  interpretation  to  the  gaze 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  63 

which  he  divined  rather  than  saw ;  and  in  alarm  lest  this  in- 
consistent extravagance  should  obstruct  his  usefulness,  he 
hastened  to  say  — 

"  You  are  doubtless  amazed  to  see  me  with  a  wax-light,  my 
young  friend ;  but  this  undue  luxury  is  paid  for  with  the  earn- 
ings of  my  daughter,  who  is  so  delicately  framed  that  the  smell 
of  tallow  is  loathsome  to  her." 

"  I  heeded  not  the  candle,  sir.  I  thank  Heaven  I  am  not  a 
mouse  to  have  a  nose  that  takes  note  of  wax  or  tallow." 

The  loud  abrupt  tones  made  the  old  man  vibrate  a  little.  He 
had  been  stroking  his  chin  gently  before,  with  a  sense  that  he 
must  be  very  quiet  and  deliberate  in  his  treatment  of  the  eccen- 
tric young  man ;  but  now,  quite  unreflectingly,  he  drew  forth 
a  pair  of  spectacles,  which  he  was  in  the  habit  of  using  when  he 
wanted  to  observe  his  interlocutor  more  closely  than  usual. 

"  And  I  myself,  in  fact,  am  equally  indifferent,"  he  said,  as 
he  opened  and  adjusted  his  glasses,  "  so  that  I  have  a  sufficient 
light  on  my  book."  Here  his  large  eyes  looked  discerningly 
through  the  spectacles. 

"  'T  is  the  quality  of  the  page  you  care  about,  not  of  the  can- 
dle," said  Felix,  smiling  pleasantly  enough  at  his  inspector. 
"  You  're  thinking  that  you  have  a  roughly  written  page  before 
you  now." 

That  was  true.  The  minister,  accustomed  to  the  respectable 
air  of  provincial  townsmen,  and  especially  to  the  sleek  well- 
clipped  gravity  of  his  own  male  congregation,  felt  a  slight 
shock  as  his  glasses  made  perfectly  clear  to  him  the  shaggy- 
headed,  large-eyed,  strong-limbed  person  of  this  questionable 
young  man,  without  waistcoat  or  cravat.  But  the  possibility, 
supported  by  some  of  Mrs.  Holt's  words,  that  a  disguised  work 
of  grace  might  be  going  forward  in  the  son  of  whom  she  com- 
plained so  bitterly,  checked  any  hasty  interpretations. 

"  I  abstain  from  judging  by  the  outward  appearance  only," 
he  answered,  with  his  usual  simplicity.  "  I  myself  have  ex- 
perienced that  when  the  spirit  is  much  exercised  it  is  difficult 
to  remember  neck-bands  and  strings  and  such  small  accidents 
of  our  vesture,  which  are  nevertheless  decent  and  needful  so 
long  as  we  sojourn  in  the  flesh.  And  you,  too,  my  young 


64  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

friend,  as  I  gather  from  your  mother 's  troubled  and  confused 
report,  are  undergoing  some  travail  of  mind.  You  will  not,  I 
trust,  object  to  open  yourself  fully  to  me,  as  to  an  aged  pastor 
who  has  himself  had  much  inward  wrestling,  and  has  especially 
known  much  temptation  from  doubt." 

"As  to  doubt,"  said  Felix,  loudly  and  brusquely  as  before, 
"if  it  is  those  absurd  medicines  and  gulling  advertisements 
that  my  mother  has  been  talking  of  to  you — and  I  suppose  it 
is  —  I  've  no  more  doubt  about  them  than  I  have  about  pocket- 
picking.  I  know  there's  a  stage  of  speculation  in  which  a 
man  may  doubt  whether  a  pickpocket  is  blameworthy — but 
I  'm  not  one  of  your  subtle  fellows  who  keep  looking  at  the 
world  through  their  own  legs.  If  I  allowed  the  sale  of  those 
medicines  to  go  on,  and  my  mother  to  live  out  of  the  proceeds 
when  I  can  keep  her  by  the  honest  labor  of  my  hands,  I  've 
not  the  least  doubt  that  I  should  be  a  rascal." 

"I  would  fain  inquire  more  particularly  into  your  objection 
to  these  medicines,"  said  Mr.  Lyon,  gravely.  Notwithstand- 
ing his  conscientiousness  and  a  certain  originality  in  his  own 
mental  disposition,  he  was  too  little  used  to  high  principle 
quite  dissociated  from  sectarian  phraseology  to  be  as  immedi- 
ately in  sympathy  with  it  as  he  would  otherwise  have  been. 
"I  know  they  have  been  well  reported  of,  and  many  wise 
persons  have  tried  remedies  providentially  discovered  by  those 
who  are  not  regular  physicians,  and  have  found  a  blessing  in 
the  use  of  them.  I  may  mention  the  eminent  Mr.  Wesley, 
who,  though  I  hold  not  altogether  with  his  Arminian  doctrine, 
nor  with  the  usages  of  his  institution,  was  nevertheless  a  man 
of  God ;  and  the  journals  of  various  Christians  whose  names 
have  left  a  sweet  savor  might  be  cited  in  the  same  sense. 
Moreover,  your  father,  who  originally  concocted  these  medi- 
cines and  left  them  as  a  provision  for  your  mother,  was,  as  I 
understand,  a  man  whose  walk  was  not  unfaithful." 

"  My  father  was  ignorant,"  said  Felix,  bluntly.  "  He  knew 
neither  the  complication  of  the  human  system,  nor  the  way  in 
which  drugs  counteract  each  other.  Ignorance  is  not  so  dam- 
nable as  humbug,  but  when  it  prescribes  pills  it  may  hap- 
pen to  do  more  harm.  I  know  something  about  these  things. 


FELIX  HOLT,   THE  EADICAL.  65 

I  was  'prentice  for  five  miserable  years  to  a  stupid  brute  of  a 
country  apothecary  —  my  poor  father  left  money  for  that  — 
he  thought  nothing  could  be  finer  for  me.  No  matter :  I  know 
that  the  Cathartic  Pills  are  a  drastic  compound  which  may 
be  as  bad  as  poison  to  half  the  people  who  swallow  them ; 
that  the  Elixir  is  an  absurd  farrago  of  a  dozen  incompatible 
things;  and  that  the  Cancer  Cure  might  as  well  be  bottled 
ditch-water." 

Mr.  Lyon  rose  and  walked  up  and  down  the  room.  His 
simplicity  was  strongly  mixed  with  sagacity  as  well  as  sec- 
tarian prejudice,  and  he  did  not  rely  at  once  on  a  loud-spoken 
integrity  —  Satan  might  have  flavored  it  with  ostentation. 
Presently  he  asked,  in  a  rapid  low  tone,  "  How  long  have  you 
known  this,  young  man  ?  " 

"  Well  put,  sir,"  said  Felix.  "  I  've  known  it  a  good  deal 
longer  than  I  have  acted  upon  it,  like  plenty  of  other  things. 
But  you  believe  in  conversion  ?  " 

"Yea,  verily." 

"  So  do  I.     I  was  converted  by  six  weeks'  debauchery." 

The  minister  started.  "Young  man,"  he  said,  solemnly, 
going  up  close  to  Felix  and  laying  a  hand  on  his  shoulder, 
"speak  not  lightly  of  the  Divine  operations,  and  restrain 
unseemly  words." 

"I'm  not  speaking  lightly,"  said  Felix.  "If  I  had  not  seen 
that  I  was  making  a  hog  of  myself  very  fast,  and  that  pig- 
wash, even  if  I  could  have  got  plenty  of  it,  was  a  poor  sort  of 
thing,  I  should  never  have  looked  life  fairly  in  the  face  to  see 
what  was  to  be  done  with  it.  I  laughed  out  loud  at  last  to 
think  of  a  poor  devil  like  me,  in  a  Scotch  garret,  with  my 
stockings  out  at  heel  and  a  shilling  or  two  to  be  dissipated 
upon,  with  a  smell  of  raw  haggis  mounting  from  below,  and 
old  women  breathing  gin  as  they  passed  me  on  the  stairs  — 
wanting  to  turn  my  life  into  easy  pleasure.  Then  I  began  to 
see  what  else  it  could  be  turned  into.  Not  much,  perhaps. 
This  world  is  not  a  very  fine  place  for  a  good  many  of  the 
people  in  it.  But  I  've  made  up  my  mind  it  shan't  be  the 
worse  for  me,  if  I  can  help  it.  They  may  tell  me  I  can't  alter 
the  world — that  there  must  be  a  certain  number  of  sneaks  and 

YOL.    III.  5 


66  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL. 

robbers  in  it,  and  if  I  don't  lie  and  filch  somebody  else  will. 
Well,  then,  somebody  else  shall,  for  I  won't.  That 's  the 
upshot  of  my  conversion,  Mr.  Lyon,  if  you  want  to  know  it." 

Mr.  Lyon  removed  his  hand  from  Felix's  shoulder  and 
walked  about  again.  "Did  you  sit  under  any  preacher  at 
Glasgow,  young  man  ?  " 

"No:  I  heard  most  of  the  preachers  once,  but  I  never 
wanted  to  hear  them  twice." 

The  good  Eufus  was  not  without  a  slight  rising  of  resent- 
ment at  this  young  man's  want  of  reverence.  It  was  not  yet 
plain  whether  he  wanted  to  hear  twice  the  preacher  in  Malt- 
house  Yard.  But  the  resentful  feeling  was  carefully  re- 
pressed :  a  soul  in  so  peculiar  a  condition  must  be  dealt  with 
delicately. 

"And  now,  may  I  ask,"  he  said,  "  what  course  you  mean  to 
take,  after  hindering  your  mother  from  making  and  selling 
these  drugs  ?  I  speak  no  more  in  their  favor  after  what  you 
have  said.  God  forbid  that  I  should  strive  to  hinder  you  from 
seeking  whatsoever  things  are  honest  and  honorable.  But 
your  mother  is  advanced  in  years ;  she  needs  comfortable  sus- 
tenance ;  you  have  doubtless  considered  how  you  may  make 
her  amends  ?  ;  He  that  provideth  not  for  his  own  — '  I 
trust  you  respect  the  authority  that  so  speaks.  And  I  will 
not  suppose  that,  after  being  tender  of  conscience  towards 
strangers,  you  will  be  careless  towards  your  mother.  There 
be  indeed  some  who,  taking  a  mighty  charge  on  their  shoul- 
ders, must  perforce  leave  their  households  to  Providence,  and 
to  the  care  of  humbler  brethren,  but  in  such  a  case  the  call 
must  be  clear." 

"  I  shall  keep  my  mother  as  well  —  nay,  better  —  than  she 
has  kept  herself.  She  has  always  been  frugal.  With  my 
watch  and  clock  cleaning,  and  teaching  one  or  two  little  chaps 
that  I  've  got  to  come  to  me,  I  can  earn  enough.  As  for 
me,  I  can  live  on  bran  porridge.  I  have  the  stomach  of  a 
rhinoceros." 

"  But  for  a  young  man  so  well  furnished  as  you,  who  can 
questionless  write  a  good  hand  and  keep  books,  were  it  not 
well  to  seek  some  higher  situation  as  clerk  or  assistant  ?  I 


FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL.  67 

could  speak  to  Brother  Muscat,  who  is  well  acquainted  with  all 
such  openings.  Any  place  in  PendrelPs  Bank,  I  fear,  is  now 
closed  against  such  as  are  not  Churchmen.  It  used  not  to  be 
so,  but  a  year  ago  he  discharged  Brother  Bodkin,  although 
he  was  a  valuable  servant.  Still,  something  might  be  found. 
There  are  ranks  and  degrees  —  and  those  who  can  serve  in  the 
higher  must  not  unadvisedly  change  what  seems  to  be  a  provi- 
dential appointment.  Your  poor  mother  is  not  altogether  —  " 

"  Excuse  me,  Mr.  Lyon ;  I  Ve  had  all  that  out  with  my 
mother,  and  I  may  as  well  save  you  any  trouble  by  telling  you 
that  my  mind  has  been  made  up  about  that  a  long  while  ago. 
I  '11  take  no  employment  that  obliges  me  to  prop  up  my  chin 
with  a  high  cravat,  and  wear  straps,  and  pass  the  livelong  day 
with  a  set  of  fellows  who  spend  their  spare  money  on  shirt- 
pins.  That  sort  of  work  is  really  lower  than  many  handicrafts  ; 
it  only  happens  to  be  paid  out  of  proportion.  That 's  why  I 
set  myself  to  learn  the  watchmaking  trade.  My  father  was  a 
weaver  first  of  all.  It  would  have  been  better  for  him  if  he 
had  remained  a  weaver.  I  came  home  through  Lancashire  and 
saw  an  uncle  of  mine  who  is  a  weaver  still.  I  mean  to  stick  to 
the  class  I  belong  to  —  people  who  don't  follow  the  fashions." 

Mr.  Lyon  was  silent  a  few  moments.  This  dialogue  was  far 
from  plain  sailing ;  he  was  not  certain  of  his  latitude  and  longi- 
tude. If  the  despiser  of  Glasgow  preachers  had  been  arguing 
in  favor  of  gin  and  Sabbath-breaking,  Mr.  Lyon's  course  would 
have  been  clearer.  "  Well,  well,"  he  said,  deliberately,  "  it  is 
true  that  St.  Paul  exercised  the  trade  of  tent-making,  though 
he  was  learned  in  all  the  wisdom  of  the  Eabbis." 

"  St.  Paul  was  a  wise  man,"  said  Felix.  "  Why  should  I 
want  to  get  into  the  middle  class  because  I  have  some  learn- 
ing ?  The  most  of  the  middle  class  are  as  ignorant  as  the 
working  people  about  everything  that  does  n't  belong  to  their 
own  Brummagem  life.  That 's  how  the  working  men  are  left 
to  foolish  devices  and  keep  worsening  themselves :  the  best 
heads  among  them  forsake  their  born  comrades,  and  go  in  for 
a  house  with  a  high  door-step  and  a  brass  knocker." 

Mr.  Lyon  stroked  his  mouth  and  chin,  perhaps  because  he 
felt  some  disposition  to  smile ;  and  it  would  not  be  well  to 


68  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  KADICAL. 

smile  too  readily  at  what  seemed  but  a  weedy  resemblance  of 
Christian  unworldliness.  On  the  contrary,  there  might  be  a 
dangerous  snare  in  an  unsanctified  outstepping  of  average 
Christian  practice. 

"  Nevertheless,"  he  observed,  gravely,  "  it  is  by  such  self- 
advancement  that  many  have  been  enabled  to  do  good  service 
to  the  cause  of  liberty  and  to  the  public  wellbeing.  The  ring 
and  the  robe  of  Joseph  were  no  objects  for  a  good  man's  am- 
bition, but  they  were  the  signs  of  that  credit  which  he  won  by 
his  divinely  inspired  skill,  and  which  enabled  him  to  act  as  a 
saviour  to  his  brethren." 

"  Oh  yes,  your  ringed  and  scented  men  of  the  people  !  —  I 
won't  be  one  of  them.  Let  a  man  once  throttle  himself  with 
a  satin  stock,  and  he  '11  get  new  wants  and  new  motives.  Meta- 
morphosis will  have  begun  at  his  neck-joint,  and  it  will  go  on 
till  it  has  changed  his  likings  first  and  then  his  reasoning, 
which  will  follow  his  likings  as  the  feet  of  a  hungry  dog  follow 
his  nose.  I  '11  have  none  of  your  clerkly  gentility.  I  might 
end  by  collecting  greasy  pence  from  poor  men  to  buy  myself  a 
fine  coat  and  a  glutton's  dinner,  on  pretence  of  serving  the 
poor  men.  I  'd  sooner  be  Paley's  fat  pigeon  than  a  demagogue 
all  tongue  and  stomach,  though "  —  here  Felix  changed  his 
voice  a  little  —  "I  should  like  well  enough  to  be  another  sort 
of  demagogue,  if  I  could." 

"  Then  you  have  a  strong  interest  in  the  great  political 
movements  of  these  times  ?  "  said  Mr.  Lyon,  with  a  percepti- 
ble flashing  of  the  eyes. 

"  I  should  think  so.  I  despise  every  man  who  has  not  —  or, 
having  it,  does  n't  try  to  rouse  it  in  other  men." 

"  Eight,  my  young  friend,  right,"  said  the  minister,  in  a  deep 
cordial  tone.  Inevitably  his  mind  was  drawn  aside  from  the 
immediate  consideration  of  Felix  Holt's  spiritual  interest  by 
the  prospect  of  political  sympathy.  In  those  days  so  many 
instruments  of  God's  cause  in  the  fight  for  religious  and  polit- 
ical liberty  held  creeds  that  were  painfully  wrong,  and,  indeed, 
irreconcilable  with  salvation !  "  That  is  my  own  view,  which 
I  maintain  in  the  face  of  some  opposition  from  brethren  who 
contend  that  a  share  in  public  movements  is  a  hindrance  to 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  69 

the  closer  walk,  and  that  the  pulpit  is  no  place  for  teaching 
men  their  duties  as  members  of  the  commonwealth.  I  have 
had  much  puerile  blame  cast  upon  me  because  I  have  uttered 
such  names  as  Brougham  and  Wellington  in  the  pulpit.  Why 
not  Wellington  as  well  as  Rabshakeh  ?  and  why  not  Brougham 
as  well  as  Balaam  ?  Does  God  know  less  of  men  than  he  did 
in  the  days  of  Hezekiah  and  Moses  ?  —  is  his  arm  shortened, 
and  is  the  world  become  too  wide  for  his  providence  ?  But, 
they  say,  there  are  no  politics  in  the  New  Testament  —  " 

"Well,  they're  right  enough  there,"  said  Felix,  with  his 
usual  unceremoniousness. 

"  What !  you  are  of  those  who  hold  that  a  Christian  minister 
should  not  meddle  with  public  matters  in  the  pulpit  ?  "  said 
Mr.  Lyon,  coloring.  "I  am  ready  to  join  issue  on  that  point." 

"  Not  I,  sir,"  said  Felix ;  "  I  should  say,  teach  any  truth  you 
can,  whether  it 's  in  the  Testament  or  out  of  it.  It 's  little 
enough  anybody  can  get  hold  of,  and  still  less  what  he  can 
drive  into  the  skulls  of  a  pence-counting,  parcel-tying  genera- 
tion, such  as  mostly  fill  your  chapels." 

"Young  man,"  said  Mr.  Lyon,  pausing  in  front  of  Felix. 
He  spoke  rapidly,  as  he  always  did,  except  when  his  words 
were  specially  weighted  with  emotion:  he  overflowed  with 
matter,  and  in  his  mind  matter  was  always  completely  organ- 
ized into  words.  "  I  speak  not  on  my  own  behalf,  for  not  only 
have  I  no  desire  that  any  man  should  think  of  me  above  that 
which  he  seeth  me  to  be,  but  I  am  aware  of  much  that  should 
make  me  patient  under  a  disesteem  resting  even  on  too  hasty 
a  construction.  I  speak  not  as  claiming  reverence  for  my  own 
age  and  office  —  not  to  shame  you,  but  to  warn  you.  It  is 
good  that  you  should  use  plainness  of  speech,  and  I  am  not  of 
those  who  would  enforce  a  submissive  silence  on  the  young, 
that  they  themselves,  being  elders,  may  be  heard  at  large ;  for 
Elilm  was  the  youngest  of  Job's  friends,  yet  was  there  a  wise 
rebuke  in  his  words ;  and  the  aged  Eli  was  taught  by  a  revela- 
tion to  the  boy  Samuel.  I  have  to  keep  a  special  watch  over 
myself  in  this  matter,  inasmuch  as  I  have  a  need  of  utterance 
which  makes  the  thought  within  me  seem  as  a  pent-up  fire, 
until  I  have  shot  it  forth,  as  it  were,  in  arrowy  words,  each 


70  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

one  hitting  its  mark.  Therefore  I  pray  for  a  listening  spirit, 
which  is  a  great  mark  of  grace.  Nevertheless,  my  young 
friend,  I  am  bound,  as  I  said,  to  warn  you.  The  temptations 
that  most  beset  those  who  have  great  natural  gifts,  and  are 
wise  after  the  flesh,  are  pride  and  scorn,  more  particularly  to- 
wards those  weak  things  of  the  world  which  have  been  chosen 
to  confound  the  things  which  are  mighty.  The  scornful  nos- 
tril and  the  high  head  gather  not  the  odors  that  lie  on  the 
track  of  truth.  The  mind  that  is  too  ready  at  contempt  and 
reprobation  is  —  " 

Here  the  door  opened,  and  Mr.  Lyon  paused  to  look  round, 
but  seeing  only  Lyddy  with  the  tea-tray,  he  went  on  — 

"  Is,  I  may  say,  as  a  clenched  fist  that  can  give  blows,  but 
is  shut  up  from  receiving  and  holding  aught  that  is  precious 
—  though  it  were  heaven-sent  manna." 

"  I  understand  you,  sir,"  said  Felix,  good-humoredly,  putting 
out  his  hand  to  the  little  man,  who  had  come  close  to  him  as 
he  delivered  the  last  sentence  with  sudden  emphasis  and  slow- 
ness. "  But  I  'in  not  inclined  to  clench  my  fist  at  you." 

"Well,  well,"  said  Mr.  Lyon,  shaking  the  proffered  hand, 
"  we  shall  see  more  of  each  other,  and  I  trust  shall  have  much 
profitable  communing.  You  will  stay  and  have  a  dish  of  tea 
with  us :  we  take  the  meal  late  on  Thursdays,  because  my 
daughter  is  detained  by  giving  a  lesson  in  the  French  tongue. 
But  she  is  doubtless  returned  now,  and  will  presently  come 
and  pour  out  tea  for  us." 

"  Thank  you,  I  '11  stay,"  said  Felix,  not  from  any  curiosity 
to  see  the  minister's  daughter,  but  from  a  liking  for  the  society 
of  the  minister  himself  —  for  his  quaint  looks  and  ways,  and 
the  transparency  of  his  talk,  which  gave  a  charm  even  to  his 
weaknesses.  The  daughter  was  probably  some  prim  Miss,  neat, 
sensible,  pious,  but  all  in  a  small  feminine  way,  in  which  Felix 
was  no  more  interested  than  in  Dorcas  meetings,  biographies  of 
devout  women,  and  that  amount  of  ornamental  knitting  which 
was  not  inconsistent  with  Nonconforming  seriousness. 

"  I  'm  perhaps  a  little  too  fond  of  banging  and  smashing," 
he  went  on;  "a  phrenologist  at  Glasgow  told  me  I  had  large 
veneration  ;  another  man  there,  who  knew  me,  laughed  out 


FELIX   HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  71 

and  said  I  was  the  most  blasphemous  iconoclast  living.  '  That,' 
says  my  phrenologist,  <  is  because  of  his  large  Ideality,  which 
prevents  him  from  finding  anything  perfect  enough  to  be  ven- 
erated.' Of  course  I  put  my  ears  down  and  wagged  my  tail 
at  that  stroking." 

"  Yes,  yes ;  I  have  had  my  own  head  explored  with  some- 
what similar  results.  It  is,  I  fear,  but  a  vain  show  of  fulfill- 
ing the  heathen  precept,  'Know  thyself,'  and  too  often  leads 
to  a  self-estimate  which  will  subsist  in  the  absence  of  that 
fruit  by  which  alone  the  quality  of  the  tree  is  made  evident. 
Nevertheless —  Esther,  my  dear,  this  is  Mr.  Holt,  whose 
acquaintance  I  have  even  now  been  making  with  more  than 
ordinary  interest.  He  will  take  tea  with  us." 

Esther  bowed  slightly  as  she  walked  across  the  room  to 
fetch  the  candle  and  place  it  near  her  tray.  Felix  rose  and 
bowed,  also  with  an  air  of  indifference,  which  was  perhaps 
exaggerated  by  the  fact  that  he  was  inwardly  surprised.  The 
minister's  daughter  was  not  the  sort  of  person  he  expected. 
She  was  quite  incongruous  with  his  notion  of  ministers' 
daughters  in  general ;  and  though  he  had  expected  something 
nowise  delightful,  the  incongruity  repelled  him.  A  very 
delicate  scent,  the  faint  suggestion  of  a  garden,  was  wafted 
as  she  went.  He  would  not  observe  her,  but  he  had  a  sense  of 
an  elastic  walk,  the  tread  of  small  feet,  a  long  neck  and  a 
high  crown  of  shining  brown  plaits  with  curls  that  floated 
backward  —  things,  in  short,  that  suggested  a  fine  lady  to  him, 
and  determined  him  to  notice  her  as  little  as  possible.  A  fine 
lady  was  always  a  sort  of  spun-glass  affair  —  not  natural,  and 
with  no  beauty  for  him  as  art ;  but  a  fine  lady  as  the  daughter 
of  this  rusty  old  Puritan  was  especially  offensive. 

"Nevertheless,"  continued  Mr.  Lyon,  who  rarely  let  drop 
any  thread  of  discourse,  "that  phrenological  science  is  not 
irreconcilable  with  the  revealed  dispensations.  And  it  is 
undeniable  that  we  have  our  varying  native  dispositions 
which  even  grace  will  not  obliterate.  I  myself,  from  my 
youth  up,  have  been  given  to  question  too  curiously  concern- 
ing the  truth  —  to  examine  and  sift  the  medicine  of  the  soul 
rather  than  to  apply  it." 


72  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

"  If  your  truth  happens  to  be  such  medicine  as  Holt's  Pills 
and  Elixir,  the  less  you  swallow  of  it  the  better,"  said  Felix. 
"  But  truth-vendors  and  medicine-vendors  usually  recommend 
swallowing.  When  a  man  sees  his  livelihood  in  a  pill  or  a 
proposition,  he  likes  to  have  orders  for  the  dose,  and  not 
curious  inquiries." 

This  speech  verged  on  rudeness,  but  it  was  delivered  with  a 
brusque  openness  that  implied  the  absence  of  any  personal 
intention.  The  minister's  daughter  was  now  for  the  first 
time  startled  into  looking  at  Felix.  But  her  survey  of  this 
unusual  speaker  was  soon  made,  and  she  relieved  her  father 
from  the  need  to  reply  by  saying — 

"  The  tea  is  poured  out,  father." 

That  was  the  signal  for  Mr.  Lyon  to  advance  towards  the 
table,  raise  his  right  hand,  and  ask  a  blessing  at  sufficient 
length  for  Esther  to  glance  at  the  visitor  again.  There 
seemed  to  be  no  danger  of  his  looking  at  her  :  he  was  observ- 
ing her  father.  She  had  time  to  remark  that  he  was  a 
peculiar-looking  person,  but  not  insignificant,  which  was  the 
quality  that  most  hopelessly  consigned  a  man  to  perdition. 
He  was  massively  built.  The  striking  points  in  his  face  were 
large  clear  gray  eyes  and  full  lips. 

"Will  you  draw  up  to  the  table,  Mr.  Holt?"  said  the 
minister. 

In  the  act  of  rising,  Felix  pushed  back  his  chair  too  sud- 
denly against  the  rickety  table  close  by  him,  and  down  went 
the  blue-frilled  work-basket,  flying  open,  and  dispersing  on  the 
floor  reels,  thimble,  muslin-work,  a  small  sealed  bottle  of  atta 
of  rose,  and  something  heavier  than  these — a  duodecimo 
volume  which  fell  close  to  him  between  the  table  and  the 
fender. 

"  Oh  my  stars  ! "  said  Felix,  "  I  beg  your  pardon."  Esther 
had  already  started  up,  and  with  wonderful  quickness  had 
picked  up  half  the  small  rolling  things  while  Felix  was  lifting 
the  basket  and  the  book.  This  last  had  opened,  and  had  its 
leaves  crushed  in  falling  ;  and,  with  the  instinct  of  a  bookish 
man,  he  saw  nothing  more  pressing  to  be  done  than  to  flatten 
the  corners  of  the  leaves. 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  73 

"  Byron's  Poems ! "  he  said,  in  a  tone  of  disgust,  while 
Esther  was  recovering  all  the  other  articles.  " '  The  Dream ' 
—  he  'd  better  have  been  asleep  and  snoring.  What !  do  you 
stuff  your  memory  with  Byron,  Miss  Lyon  ?  " 

Felix,  on  his  side,  was  led  at  last  to  look  straight  at  Esther, 
but  it  was  with  a  strong  denunciatory  and  pedagogic  inten- 
tion. Of  course  he  saw  more  clearly  than  ever  that  she  was  a 
fine  lady. 

She  reddened,  drew  up  her  long  neck,  and  said,  as  she 
retreated  to  her  chair  again  — 

"  I  have  a  great  admiration  for  Byron." 

Mr.  Lyon  had  paused  in  the  act  of  drawing  his  chair  to  the 
tea-table,  and  was  looking  on  at  this  scene,  wrinkling  the 
corners  of  his  eyes  with  a  perplexed  smile.  Esther  would 
not  have  wished  him  to  know  anything  about  the  volume  of 
Byron,  but  she  was  too  proud  to  show  any  concern. 

"  He  is  a  worldly  and  vain  writer,  I  fear,"  said  Mr.  Lyon. 
He  knew  scarcely  anything  of  the  poet,  whose  books  em- 
bodied the  faith  and  ritual  of  many  young  ladies  and 
gentlemen. 

"A  misanthropic  debauchee,"  said  Felix,  lifting  a  chair 
with  one  hand,  and  holding  the  book  open  in  the  other, 
"whose  notion  of  a  hero  was  that  he  should  disorder  his 
stomach  and  despise  mankind.  His  corsairs  and  renegades, 
his  Alps  and  Manfreds,  are  the  most  paltry  puppets  that  were 
ever  pulled  by  the  strings  of  lust  and  pride." 

"  Hand  the  book  to  me,"  said  Mr.  Lyon. 

"  Let  me  beg  of  you  to  put  it  aside  till  after  tea,  father," 
said  Esther.  "  However  objectionable  Mr.  Holt  may  find  its 
pages,  they  would  certainly  be  made  worse  by  being  greased 
with  bread-and-butter." 

"  That  is  true,  my  dear,"  said  Mr.  Lyon,  laying  down  the 
book  on  the  small  table  behind  him.  He  saw  that  his  daugh- 
ter was  angry. 

"  Ho,  ho  ! "  thought  Felix,  "  her  father  is  frightened  at 
her.  How  came  he  to  have  such  a  nice-stepping,  long-necked 
peacock  for  his  daughter  ?  but  she  shall  see  that  I  am  not 
frightened."  Then  he  said  aloud,  "  I  should  like  to  know 


74  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

how  you  will  justify  your  admiration  for  such  a  writer,  Miss 
Lyon." 

"  I  should  not  attempt  it  with  you,  Mr.  Holt,"  said  Esther. 
"  You  have  such  strong  words  at  command,  that  they  make 
the  smallest  argument  seem  formidable.  If  I  had  ever  met 
the  giant  Cormoran,  I  should  have  made  a  point  of  agreeing 
with  him  in  his  literary  opinions." 

Esther  had  that  excellent  thing  in  woman,  a  soft  voice  with 
a  clear  fluent  utterance.  Her  sauciness  was  always  charming 
because  it  was  without  emphasis,  and  was  accompanied  with 
graceful  little  turns  of  the  head. 

Felix  laughed  at  her  thrust  with  young  heartiness. 

"  My  daughter  is  a  critic  of  words,  Mr.  Holt,"  said  the 
minister,  smiling  complacently,  "  and  often  corrects  mine  on 
the  ground  of  niceties,  which  I  profess  are  as  dark  to  me 
as  if  they  were  the  reports  of  a  sixth  sense  which  I  possess 
not.  I  am  an  eager  seeker  for  precision,  and  would  fain  find 
language  subtle  enough  to  follow  the  utmost  intricacies  of  the 
soul's  pathways,  but  I  see  not  why  a  round  word  that  means 
some  object,  made  and  blessed  by  the  Creator,  should  be 
branded  and  banished  as  a  malefactor." 

"  Oh,  your  niceties  —  I  know  what  they  are,"  said  Felix,  in 
his  usual  fortissimo.  "  They  all  go  on  your  system  of  make- 
believe.  ' Eottenness '  may  suggest  what  is  unpleasant,  so 
you  'd  better  say  '  sugar-plums,'  or  something  else  such  a  long 
way  off  the  fact  that  nobody  is  obliged  to  think  of  it.  Those 
are  your  roundabout  euphuisms  that  dress  up  swindling  till  it 
looks  as  well  as  honesty,  and  shoot  with  boiled  pease  instead 
of  bullets.  I  hate  your  gentlemanly  speakers." 

"  Then  you  would  not  like  Mr.  Jermyn,  I  think,"  said 
Esther.  "  That  reminds  me,  father,  that  to-day,  when  I  was 
giving  Miss  Louisa  Jermyn  her  lesson,  Mr.  Jermyn  came  in 
and  spoke  to  me  with  grand  politeness,  and  asked  me  at  what 
times  you  were  likely  to  be  disengaged,  because  he  wished  to 
make  your  better  acquaintance,  and  consult  you  on  matters 
of  importance.  He  never  took  the  least  notice  of  me  before. 
Can  you  guess  the  reason  of  his  sudden  ceremoniousness  ?  " 

"  Nay,  child,"  said  the  minister,  ponderingly. 


FELIX  HOLT,   THE  EADICAL.  75 

"Politics,  of  course,"  said  Felix.  "He's  on  some  com- 
mittee. An  election  is  coming.  Universal  peace  is  declared, 
and  the  foxes  have  a  sincere  interest  in  prolonging  the  lives 
of  the  poultry.  Eh,  Mr.  Lyon  ?  Is  n't  that  it  ?  " 

"  Nay,  not  so.  He  is  the  close  ally  of  the  Transome  family, 
who  are  blind  hereditary  Tories  like  the  Debarrys,  and  will 
drive  their  tenants  to  the  poll  as  if  they  were  sheep.  And 
it  has  even  been  hinted  that  the  heir  who  is  coming  from 
the  East  may  be  another  Tory  candidate,  and  coalesce  with 
the  younger  Debarry.  It  is  said  that  he  has  enormous 
wealth,  and  could  purchase  every  vote  in  the  county  that  has 
a  price." 

"  He  is  come,"  said  Esther.  "  I  heard  Miss  Jermyn  tell  her 
sister  that  she  had  seen  him  going  out  of  her  father's  room." 

"  'T  is  strange,"  said  Mr.  Lyon. 

"Something  extraordinary  must  have  happened,"  said  Es- 
ther,  "  for  Mr.  Jermyn  to  intend  courting  us.  Miss  Jermyn 
said  to  me  only  the  other  day  that  she  could  not  think  how  I 
came  to  be  so  well  educated  and  ladylike.  She  always  thought 
Dissenters  were  ignorant,  vulgar  people.  I  said,  So  they 
were,  usually,  and  Church  people  also  in  small  towns.  She 
considers  herself  a  judge  of  what  is  ladylike,  and  she  is  vul- 
garity personified  —  with  large  feet,  and  the  most  odious 
scent  on  her  handkerchief,  and  a  bonnet  that  looks  like  '  The 
Fashion  '  printed  in  capital  letters." 

"  One  sort  of  fine  ladyism  is  as  good  as  another,"  said 
Felix. 

"  No,  indeed.  Pardon  me,"  said  Esther.  "  A  real  fine- 
lady  does  not  wear  clothes  that  flare  in  people's  eyes,  or 
use  importunate  scents,  or  make  a  noise  as  she  moves  :  she 
is  something  refined  and  graceful  and  charming,  and  never 
obtrusive." 

"  Oh  yes,"  said  Felix,  contemptuously.  "  And  she  reads 
Byron  also,  and  admires  Childe  Harold  —  gentlemen  of  un- 
speakable woes,  who  employ  a  hairdresser,  and  look  seriously 
at  themselves  in  the  glass." 

Esther  reddened,  and  gave  a  little  toss.  Felix  went  on 
triumphantly.  "  A  fine  lady  is  a  squirrel-headed  thing,  with 


76          FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

small  airs,  and  small  notions,  about  as  applicable  to  the  busi- 
ness of  life  as  a  pair  of  tweezers  to  the  clearing  of  a  forest. 
Ask  your  father  what  those  old  persecuted  emigrant  Puritans 
would  have  done  with  fine-lady  wives  and  daughters." 

"  Oh,  there  is  no  danger  of  such  misalliances,"  said  Esther. 
"  Men  who  are  unpleasant  companions  and  make  frights  of 
themselves,  are  sure  to  get  wives  tasteless  enough  to  suit 
them." 

"  Esther,  my  dear,"  said  Mr.  Lyon,  "  let  not  your  playful- 
ness betray  you  into  disrespect  towards  those  venerable  pil- 
grims. They  struggled  and  endured  in  order  to  cherish  and 
plant  anew  the  seeds  of  scriptural  doctrine  and  of  a  pure 
discipline." 

"  Yes,  I  know,"  said  Esther,  hastily,  dreading  a  discourse 
on  the  pilgrim  fathers. 

"  Oh,  they  were  an  ugly  lot !  "  Felix  burst  in,  making  Mr. 
Lyon  start.  "  Miss  Medora  would  n't  have  minded  if  they 
had  all  been  put  into  the  pillory  and  lost  their  ears.  She 
would  have  said,  '  Their  ears  did  stick  out  so.'  I  should  n't 
wonder  if  that 's  a  bust  of  one  of  them."  Here  Felix,  with 
sudden  keenness  of  observation,  nodded  at  the  black  bust  with 
the  gauze  over  its  colored  face. 

"  No,"  said  Mr.  Lyon  ;  "  that  is  the  eminent  George  Whit- 
field,  who,  you  well  know,  had  a  gift  of  oratory  as  of  one  on 
whom  the  tongue  of  flame  had  rested  visibly.  But  Providence 
—  doubtless  for  wise  ends  in  relation  to  the  inner  man,  for  I 
would  not  inquire  too  closely  into  minutiae  which  carry  too 
many  plausible  interpretations  for  any  one  of  them  to  be 
stable  —  Providence,  I  say,  ordained  that  the  good  man  should 
squint ;  and  my  daughter  has  not  yet  learned  to  bear  with 
this  infirmity." 

"  So  she  has  put  a  veil  over  it.  Suppose  you  had  squinted 
yourself  ?  "  said  Felix,  looking  at  Esther. 

"  Then,  doubtless,  you  could  have  been  more  polite  to  me, 
Mr.  Holt,"  said  Esther,  rising  and  placing  herself  at  her  work- 
table.  "  You  seem  to  prefer  what  is  unusual  and  ugly." 

"  A  peacock  !  "  thought  Felix.  "  I  should  like  to  come  and 
scold  her  every  day,  and  make  her  cry  and  cut  her  fine  hair  off." 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  77 

Felix  rose  to  go,  and  said,  "  I  will  not  take  up  more  of  your 
valuable  time,  Mr.  Lyon.  I  know  that  you  have  not  many 
spare  evenings." 

"  That  is  true,  my  young  friend  ;  for  I  now  go  to  Sproxton 
one  evening  in  the  week.  I  do  not  despair  that  we  may  some 
day  need  a  chapel  there,  though  the  hearers  do  not  multiply 
save  among  the  women,  and  there  is  no  work  as  yet  begun 
among  the  miners  themselves.  I  shall  be  glad  of  your  com- 
pany in  my  walk  thither  to-morrow  at  five  o'clock,  if  you 
would  like  to  see  how  that  population  has  grown  of  late 
years." 

"  Oh,  I  Ve  been  to  Sproxton  already  several  times.  I  had 
a  congregation  of  my  own  there  last  Sunday  evening." 

"  What !  do  you  preach  ?  "  said  Mr.  Lyon,  with  a  bright- 
ened glance. 

"  Not  exactly.     I  went  to  the  ale-house." 

Mr.  Lyon  started.  "  I  trust  you  are  putting  a  riddle  to  me, 
young  man,  even  as  Samson  did  to  his  companions.  From 
what  you  said  but  lately,  it  cannot  be  that  you  are  given  to 
tippling  and  to  taverns." 

"  Oh,  I  don't  drink  much.  I  order  a  pint  of  beer,  and  I  get 
into  talk  with  the  fellows  over  their  pots  and  pipes.  Some- 
body must  take  a  little  knowledge  and  common-sense  to  them 
in  this  way,  else  how  are  they  to  get  it  ?  I  go  for  educating 
the  non-electors,  so  I  put  myself  in  the  way  of  my  pupils  — 
my  academy  is  the  beer-house.  I  '11  walk  with  you  to-morrow 
with  great  pleasure." 

"  Do  so,  do  so,"  said  Mr.  Lyon,  shaking  hands  with  his  odd 
acquaintance.  "  We  shall  understand  each  other  better  by- 
and-by,  I  doubt  not." 

"  I  wish  you  good-evening,  Miss  Lyon." 

Esther  bowed  very  slightly,  without  speaking. 

"  That  is  a  singular  young  man,  Esther,"  said  the  minister, 
walking  about  after  Felix  was  gone.  "  I  discern  in  him  a 
love  for  whatsoever  things  are  honest  and  true,  which  I  would 
fain  believe  to  be  an  earnest  of  further  endowment  with  the 
wisdom  that  is  from  on  high.  It  is  true  that,  as  the  traveller 
in  the  desert  is  often  lured,  by  a  false  vision  of  water  and 


78  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

freshness,  to  turn  aside  from  the  track  which  leads  to  the 
tried  and  established  fountains,  so  the  Evil  One  will  take  ad- 
vantage of  a  natural  yearning  towards  the  better,  to  delude 
the  soul  with  a  self-flattering  belief  in  a  visionary  virtue, 
higher  than  the  ordinary  fruits  of  the  Spirit.  But  I  trust  it 
is  not  so  here.  I  feel  a  great  enlargement  in  this  young 
man's  presence,  notwithstanding  a  certain  license  in  his  lan- 
guage, which  I  shall  use  ray  efforts  to  correct." 

"  I  think  he  is  very  coarse  and  rude,"  said  Esther,  with  a 
touch  of  temper  in  her  voice.  "  But  he  speaks  better  English 
than  most  of  our  visitors.  What  is  his  occupation  ?  " 

"  Watch  and  clock  making,  by  which,  together  with  a  little 
teaching,  as  I  understand,  he  hopes  to  maintain  his  mother, 
not  thinking  it  right  that  she  should  live  by  the  sale  of  medi- 
cines whose  virtues  he  distrusts.  It  is  no  common  scruple." 

"  Dear  me,"  said  Esther,  "  I  thought  he  was  something 
higher  than  that."  She  was  disappointed. 

Felix,  on  his  side,  as  he  strolled  out  in  the  evening  air,  said 
to  himself :  "  Now  by  what  fine  meshes  of  circumstance  did 
that  queer  devout  old  man,  with  his  awful  creed,  which  makes 
this  world  a  vestibule  with  double  doors  to  hell,  and  a  narrow 
stair  on  one  side  whereby  the  thinner  sort  may  mount  to 
heaven  —  by  what  subtle  play  of  flesh  and  spirit  did  he  come 
to  have  a  daughter  so  little  in  his  own  likeness  ?  Married 
foolishly,  I  suppose.  I  '11  never  marry,  though  I  should  have 
to  live  on  raw  turnips  to  subdue  my  flesh.  I  '11  never  look 
back  and  say,  '  I  had  a  fine  purpose  once  —  I  meant  to  keep 
my  hands  clean  and  my  soul  upright,  and  to  look  truth  in  the 
face ;  but  pray  excuse  me,  I  have  a  wife  and  children  —  I 
must  lie  and  simper  a  little,  else  they  '11  starve  ; '  or  '  My  wife 
is  nice,  she  must  have  her  bread  well  buttered,  and  her  feel- 
ings will  be  hurt  if  she  is  not  thought  genteel.'  That  is  the 
lot  Miss  Esther  is  preparing  for  some  man  or  other.  I  could 
grind  my  teeth  at  such  self-satisfied  minxes,  who  think  they 
can  tell  everybody  what  is  the  correct  thing,  and  the  utmost 
stretch  of  their  ideas  will  not  place  them  on  a  level  with  the 
intelligent  fleas.  I  should  like  to  see  if  she  could  be  made 
ashamed  of  herself." 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  79 


CHAPTER  VI. 

Though  she  be  dead,  yet  let  me  think  she  lives, 
And  feed  my  mind,  that  dies  for  want  of  her. 

MARLOWE  :  Tamburlaine  the  Great. 

HARDLY  any  one  in  Treby  who  thought  at  all  of  Mr.  Lyon 
and  his  daughter  had  not  felt  the  same  sort  of  wonder  about 
Esther  as  Felix  felt.  She  was  not  much  liked  by  her  father's 
church  and  congregation.  The  less  serious  observed  that  she 
had  too  many  airs  and  graces,  and  held  her  head  much  too 
high ;  the  stricter  sort  feared  greatly  that  Mr.  Lyon  had  not 
been  sufficiently  careful  in  placing  his  daughter  among  God- 
fearing people,  and  that,  being  led  astray  by  the  melancholy 
vanity  of  giving  her  exceptional  accomplishments,  he  had  sent 
her  to  a  French  school,  and  allowed  her  to  take  situations 
where  she  had  contracted  notions  not  only  above  her  own 
rank,  but  of  too  worldly  a  kind  to  be  safe  in  any  rank.  But 
no  one  knew  what  sort  of  a  woman  her  mother  had  been,  for 
Mr.  Lyon  never  spoke  of  his  past  domesticities.  When  he 
was  chosen  as  pastor  at  Treby  in  1825,  it  was  understood  that 
he  had  been  a  widower  many  years,  and  he  had  no  companion 
but  the  tearful  and  much-exercised  Lyddy,  his  daughter  being 
still  at  school.  It  was  only  two  years  ago  that  Esther  had 
come  home  to  live  permanently  with  her  father,  and  take 
pupils  in  the  town.  Within  that  time  she  had  excited  a  pas- 
sion in  two  young  Dissenting  breasts  that  were  clad  in  the 
best  style  of  Treby  waistcoat  —  a  garment  which  at  that  period 
displayed  much  design  both  in  the  stuff  and  the  wearer ;  and 
she  had  secured  an  astonished  admiration  of  her  cleverness 
from  the  girls  of  various  ages  who  were  her  pupils ;  indeed, 
her  knowledge  of  French  was  generally  held  to  give  a  distinc- 
tion to  Treby  itself  as  compared  with  other  market-towns. 
But  she  had  won  little  regard  of  any  other  kind.  Wise  Dis- 
senting matrons  were  divided  between  fear  lest  their  sons 


80  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL. 

should  want  to  marry  her  and  resentment  that  she  should 
treat  those  "  undeniable "  young  men  with  a  distant  scorn 
which  was  hardly  to  be  tolerated  in  a  minister's  daughter; 
not  only  because  that  parentage  appeared  to  entail  an  obliga- 
tion to  show  an  exceptional  degree  of  Christian  humility,  but 
because,  looked  at  from  a  secular  point  of  view,  a  poor  minis- 
ter must  be  below  the  substantial  householders  who  kept  him. 
For  at  that  time  the  preacher  who  was  paid  under  the  Volun- 
tary system  was  regarded  by  his  flock  with  feelings  not  less 
mixed  than  the  spiritual  person  who  still  took  his  tithe-pig 
or  his  modus.  His  gifts  were  admired,  and  tears  were  shed 
under  best  bonnets  at  his  sermons ;  but  the  weaker  tea  was 
thought  good  enough  for  him ;  and  even  when  he  went  to 
preach  a  charity  sermon  in  a  strange  town,  he  was  treated 
with  home-made  wine  and  the  smaller  bedroom.  As  the  good 
Churchman's  reverence  was  often  mixed  with  growling,  and 
was  apt  to  be  given  chiefly  to  an  abstract  parson  who  was 
what  a  parson  ought  to  be,  so  the  good  Dissenter  sometimes 
mixed  his  approval  of  ministerial  gifts  with  considerable 
criticism  and  cheapening  of  the  human  vessel  which  contained 
those  treasures.  Mrs.  Muscat  and  Mrs.  Nuttwood  applied  the 
principle  of  Christian  equality  by  remarking  that  Mr.  Lyon 
had  his  oddities,  and  that  he  ought  not  to  allow  his  daughter 
to  indulge  in  such  unbecoming  expenditure  on  her  gloves, 
shoes,  and  hosiery,  even  if  she  did  pay  for  them  out  of  her 
earnings.  As  for  the  Church  people  who  engaged  Miss  Lyon 
to  give  lessons  in  their  families,  their  imaginations  were  alto- 
gether prostrated  by  the  incongruity  between  accomplishments 
and  Dissent,  between  weekly  prayer-meetings  and  a  conver- 
sance with  so  lively  and  altogether  worldly  a  language  as  the 
French.  Esther's  own  mind  was  not  free  from  a  sense  of 
irreconcilableness  between  the  objects  of  her  taste  and  the 
conditions  of  her  lot.  She  knew  that  Dissenters  were  looked 
down  upon  by  those  whom  she  regarded  as  the  most  refined 
classes ;  her  favorite  companions,  both  in  France  and  at  an 
English  school  where  she  had  been  a  junior  teacher,  had 
thought  it  quite  ridiculous  to  have  a  father  who  was  a  Dis- 
senting preacher ;  and  when  an  ardently  admiring  school- 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  81 

fellow  induced  her  parents  to  take  Esther  as  a  governess  to 
the  younger  children,  all  her  native  tendencies  towards  luxury, 
fastidiousness,  and  scorn  of  mock  gentility,  were  strengthened 
by  witnessing  the  habits  of  a  well-born  and  wealthy  family. 
Yet  the  position  of  servitude  was  irksome  to  her,  and  she  was 
glad  at  last  to  live  at  home  with  her  father ;  for  though, 
throughout  her  girlhood,  she  had  wished  to  avoid  this  lot,  a 
little  experience  had  taught  her  to  prefer  its  comparative 
independence.  But  she  was  not  contented  with  her  life  :  she 
seemed  to  herself  to  be  surrounded  with  ignoble,  uninterest- 
ing conditions,  from  which  there  was  no  issue  ;  for  even  if  she 
had  been  unamiable  enough  to  give  her  father  pain  deliber- 
ately, it  would  have  been  no  satisfaction  to  her  to  go  to  Treby 
church,  and  visibly  turn  her  back  on  Dissent.  It  was  not 
religious  differences,  but  social  differences,  that  Esther  was 
concerned  about,  and  her  ambitious  taste  would  have  been  no 
more  gratified  in  the  society  of  the  Waces  than  in  that  of  the 
Muscats.  The  Waces  spoke  imperfect  English  and  played 
whist ;  the  Muscats  spoke  the  same  dialect  and  took  in  the 
"  Evangelical  Magazine."  Esther  liked  neither  of  these  amuse- 
ments. She  had  one  of  those  exceptional  organizations  which 
are  quick  and  sensitive  without  being  in  the  least  morbid; 
she  was  alive  to  the  finest  shades  of  manner,  to  the  nicest 
distinctions  of  tone  and  accent ;  she  had  a  little  code  of  her 
own  about  scents  and  colors,  textures  and  behavior,  by  which 
she  secretly  condemned  or  sanctioned  all  things  and  persons. 
And  she  was  well  satisfied  with  herself  for  her  fastidious  taste, 
never  doubting  that  hers  was  the  highest  standard.  She  was 
proud  that  the  best-born  and  handsomest  girls  at  school  had 
always  said  that  she  might  be  taken  for  a  born  lady.  Her 
own  pretty  instep,  clad  in  a  silk  stocking,  her  little  heel,  just 
rising  from  a  kid  slipper,  her  irreproachable  nails  and  delicate 
wrist,  were  the  objects  of  delighted  consciousness  to  her  ;  and 
she  felt  that  it  was  her  superiority  which  made  her  unable  to 
use  without  disgust  any  but  the  finest  cambric  handkerchiefs 
and  freshest  gloves.  Her  money  all  went  in  the  gratification 
of  these  nice  tastes,  and  she  saved  nothing  from  her  earnings. 
I  cannot  say  that  she  had  any  pangs  of  conscience  on  this 

VOL.    III.  6 


82  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

score ;  for  she  felt  sure  that  she  was  generous :  she  hated  all 
meanness,  would  empty  her  purse  impulsively  on  some  sudden 
appeal  to  her  pity,  and  if  she  found  out  that  her  father  had  a 
want,  she  would  supply  it  with  some  pretty  device  of  a  sur- 
prise. But  then  the  good  man  so  seldom  had  a  want  —  except 
the  perpetual  desire,  which  she  could  never  gratify,  of  seeing 
her  under  convictions,  and  fit  to  become  a  member  of  the 
church. 

As  for  little  Mr.  Lyon,  he  loved  and  admired  this  unre- 
generate  child  more,  he  feared,  than  was  consistent  with  the 
due  preponderance  of  impersonal  and  ministerial  regards  :  he 
prayed  and  pleaded  for  her  with  tears,  humbling  himself  for 
her  spiritual  deficiencies  in  the  privacy  of  his  study  ;  and  then 
came  down-stairs  to  find  himself  in  timorous  subjection  to  her 
wishes,  lest,  as  he  inwardly  said,  he  should  give  his  teaching 
an  ill  savor,  by  mingling  it  with  outward  crossing.  There 
will  be  queens  in  spite  of  Salic  or  other  laws  of  later  date  than 
Adam  and  Eve ;  and  here,  in  this  small  dingy  house  of  the 
minister  in  Malthouse  Yard,  there  was  a  light-footed,  sweet- 
voiced  Queen  Esther. 

The  stronger  will  always  rule,  say  some,  with  an  air  of  con- 
fidence which  is  like  a  lawyer's  flourish,  forbidding  exceptions 
or  additions.  But  what  is  strength  ?  Is  it  blind  wilfulness 
that  sees  no  terrors,  no  many-linked  consequences,  no  bruises 
and  wounds  of  those  whose  cords  it  tightens  ?  Is  it  the  nar- 
rowness of  a  brain  that  conceives  no  needs  differing  from  its 
own,  and  looks  to  no  results  beyond  the  bargains  of  to-day ; 
that  tugs  with  emphasis  for  every  small  purpose,  and  thinks 
it  weakness  to  exercise  the  sublime  power  of  resolved  renun- 
ciation ?  There  is  a  sort  of  subjection  which  is  the  peculiar 
heritage  of  largeness  and  of  love  ;  and  strength  is  often  only 
another  name  for  willing  bondage  to  irremediable  weakness. 

Esther  had  affection  for  her  father :  she  recognized  the  pur- 
ity of  his  character,  and  a  quickness  of  intellect  in  him  which 
responded  to  her  own  liveliness,  in  spite  of  what  seemed  a 
dreary  piety,  which  selected  everything  that  was  least  inter- 
esting and  romantic  in  life  and  history.  But  his  old  clothes 
had  a  smoky  odor,  and  she  did  not  like  to  walk  with  him, 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  83 

because,  when  people  spoke  to  him  in  the  street,  it  was  his 
wont,  instead  of  remarking  on  the  weather  and  passing  on,  to 
pour  forth  in  an  absent  manner  some  reflections  that  were  oc- 
cupying his  mind  about  the  traces  of  the  Divine  government,  or 
about  a  peculiar  incident  narrated  in  the  life  of  the  eminent 
Mr.  Richard  Baxter.  Esther  had  a  horror  of  appearing  ridicu- 
lous even  in  the  eyes  of  vulgar  Trebians.  She  fancied  that 
she  should  have  loved  her  mother  better  than  she  was  able  to 
love  her  father ;  and  she  wished  she  could  have  remembered 
that  mother  more  thoroughly. 

But  she  had  no  more  than  a  broken  vision  of  the  time  before 
she  was  five  years  old  —  the  time  when  the  word  of tenest  on 
her  lips  was  "  Mamma ; "  when  a  low  voice  spoke  caressing 
French  words  to  her,  and  she  in  her  turn  repeated  the  words  to 
her  rag-doll ;  when  a  very  small  white  hand,  different  from  any 
that  came  after,  used  to  pat  her,  and  stroke  her,  and  tie  on  her 
frock  and  pinafore,  and  when  at  last  there  was  nothing  but 
sitting  with  a  doll  on  a  bed  where  mamma  was  lying,  till 
her  father  once  carried  her  away.  Where  distinct  memory 
began,  there  was  no  longer  the  low  caressing  voice  and  the 
small  white  hand.  She  knew  that  her  mother  was  a  French- 
woman, that  she  had  been  in  want  and  distress,  and  that  her 
maiden  name  was  Annette  Ledru.  Her  father  had  told  her  no 
more  than  this ;  and  once,  in  her  childhood,  when  she  had 
asked  him  some  question,  he  had  said,  "  My  Esther,  until  you 
are  a  woman,  we  will  only  think  of  your  mother :  when  you 
are  about  to  be  married  and  leave  me,  we  will  speak  of  her, 
and  I  will  deliver  to  you  her  ring  and  all  that  was  hers  ;  but, 
without  a  great  command  laid  upon  me,  I  cannot  pierce  my 
heart  by  speaking  of  that  which  was  and  is  not."  Esther  had 
never  forgotten  these  words,  and  the  older  she  became,  the 
more  impossible  she  felt  it  that  she  should  urge  her  father 
with  questions  about  the  past. 

His  inability  to  speak  of  that  past  to  her  depended  on  mani- 
fold causes.  Partly  it  came  from  an  initial  concealment.  He 
had  not  the  courage  to  tell  Esther  that  he  was  not  really  her 
father :  he  had  not  the  courage  to  renounce  that  hold  on  her 
tenderness  which  the  belief  in  his  natural  fatherhood  must 


84  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL. 

help  to  give  him,  or  to  incur  any  resentment  that  her  quick 
spirit  might  feel  at  having  been  brought  up  under  a  false 
supposition.  But  there  were  other  things  yet  more  difficult 
for  him  to  be  quite  open  about  —  deep  sorrows  of  his  life  as  a 
Christian  minister  that  were  hardly  to  be  told  to  a  girl. 

Twenty-two  years  before,  when  Kuf us  Lyon  was  no  more  than 
thirty-six  years  old,  he  was  the  admired  pastor  of  a  large  Inde- 
pendent congregation  in  one  of  our  southern  seaport  towns. 
He  was  unmarried,  and  had  met  all  exhortations  of  friends 
who  represented  to  him  that  a  bishop  —  i.  e.,  the  overseer  of 
an  Independent  church  and  congregation  —  should  be  the  hus- 
band of  one  wife,  by  saying  that  St.  Paul  meant  this  particu- 
lar as  a  limitation,  and  not  as  an  injunction ;  that  a  minister 
was  permitted  to  have  one  wife,  but  that  he,  Rufus  Lyon,  did 
not  wish  to  avail  himself  of  that  permission,  finding  his  studies 
and  other  labors  of  his  vocation  all-absorbing,  and  seeing  that 
mothers  in  Israel  were  sufficiently  provided  by  those  who  had 
not  been  set  apart  for  a  more  special  work.  His  church  and 
congregation  were  proud  of  him  :  he  was  put  forward  on  plat- 
forms, was  made  a  "  deputation,"  and  was  requested  to  preach 
anniversary  sermons  in  far-off  towns.  Wherever  noteworthy 
preachers  were  discussed,  Eufus  Lyon  was  almost  sure  to  be 
mentioned  as  one  who  did  honor  to  the  Independent  body ;  his 
sermons  were  said  to  be  full  of  study  yet  full  of  fire ;  and 
while  he  had  more  of  human  knowledge  than  many  of  his 
brethren,  he  showed  in  an  eminent  degree  the  marks  of  a  true 
ministerial  vocation.  But  on  a  sudden  this  burning  and  shin- 
ing light  seemed  to  be  quenched :  Mr.  Lyon  voluntarily  re- 
signed his  charge  and  withdrew  from  the  town. 

A  terrible  crisis  had  come  upon  him ;  a  moment  in  which 
religious  doubt  and  newly  awakened  passion  had  rushed  to- 
gether in  a  common  flood,  and  had  paralyzed  his  ministerial 
gifts.  His  life  of  thirty-six  years  had  been  a  story  of  purely 
religious  and  studious  fervor ;  his  passion  had  been  for  doc- 
trines, for  argumentative  conquest  on  the  side  of  right ;  the 
sins  he  had  had  chiefly  to  pray  against  had  been  those  of  per- 
sonal ambition  (under  such  forms  as  ambition  takes  in  the 
mind  of  a  man  who  has  chosen  the  career  of  an  Independent 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  85 

preacher),  and  those  of  a  too  restless  intellect,  ceaselessly 
urging  questions  concerning  the  mystery  of  that  which  was 
assuredly  revealed,  and  thus  hindering  the  due  nourishment 
of  the  soul  on  the  substance  of  the  truth  delivered.  Even  at 
that  time  of  comparative  youth,  his  unworldliness  and  simpli- 
city in  small  matters  (for  he  was  keenly  awake  to  the  larger 
affairs  of  this  world)  gave  a  certain  oddity  to  his  manners  and 
appearance ;  and  though  his  sensitive  face  had  much  beauty, 
his  person  altogether  seemed  so  irrelevant  to  a  fashionable 
view  of  things,  that  well-dressed  ladies  and  gentlemen  usually 
laughed  at  him,  as  they  probably  did  at  Mr.  John  Milton  after 
the  Restoration  and  ribbons  had  come  in,  and  still  more  at 
that  apostle,  of  weak  bodily  presence,  who  preached  in  the 
back  streets  of  Ephesus  and  elsewhere,  a  new  view  of  a  new 
religion  that  hardly  anybody  believed  in.  Kufus  Lyon  was 
the  singular-looking  apostle  of  the  Meeting  in  Skipper's  Lane. 
Was  it  likely  that  any  romance  should  befall  such  a  man  ? 
Perhaps  not ;  but  romance  did  befall  him. 

One  winter's  evening  in  1812,  Mr.  Lyon  was  returning  from 
a  village  preaching.  He  walked  at  his  usual  rapid  rate,  with 
busy  thoughts  undistracted  by  any  sight  more  distinct  than 
the  bushes  and  hedgerow  trees,  black  beneath  a  faint  moon- 
light, until  something  suggested  to  him  that  he  had  perhaps 
omitted  to  bring  away  with  him  a  thin  account-book  in  which 
he  recorded  certain  subscriptions.  He  paused,  unfastened  his 
outer  coat  and  felt  in  all  his  pockets,  then  he  took  off  his  hat 
and  looked  inside  it.  The  book  was  not  to  be  found,  and  he 
was  about  to  walk  on,  when  he  was  startled  by  hearing  a  low, 
sweet  voice  say,  with  a  strong  foreign  accent  — 

"  Have  pity  on  me,  sir." 

Searching  with  his  short-sighted  eyes,  he  perceived  some  one 
on  a  side-bank ;  and  approaching,  he  found  a  young  woman  with 
a  baby  on  her  lap.  She  spoke  again  more  faintly  than  before. 

"  Sir,  I  die  with  hunger ;  in  the  name  of  God  take  the  little 
one." 

There  was  no  distrusting  the  pale  face  and  the  sweet  low 
voice.  Without  pause,  Mr.  Lyon  took  the  baby  in  his  arms 
and  said,  "  Can  you  walk  by  my  side,  young  woman  ?  " 


86  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL. 

She  rose,  but  seemed  tottering.  "Lean  on  me,"  said  Mr. 
Lyon.  And  so  they  walked  slowly  on,  the  minister  for  the 
first  time  in  his  life  carrying  a  baby. 

Nothing  better  occurred  to  him  than  to  take  his  charge  to 
his  own  house ;  it  was  the  simplest  way  of  relieving  the 
woman's  wants,  and  finding  out  how  she  could  be  helped  fur- 
ther ;  and  he  thought  of  no  other  possibilities.  She  was  too 
feeble  for  more  words  to  be  spoken  between  them  till  she  was 
seated  by  his  fireside.  His  elderly  servant  was  not  easily 
amazed  at  anything  her  master  did  in  the  way  of  charity,  and 
at  once  took  the  baby,  while  Mr.  Lyon  unfastened  the  mother's 
damp  bonnet  and  shawl,  and  gave  her  something  warm  to 
drink.  Then,  waiting  by  her  till  it  was  time  to  offer  her 
more,  he  had  nothing  to  do  but  to  notice  the  loveliness  of  her 
face,  which  seemed  to  him  as  that  of  an  angel,  with  a  benignity 
in  its  repose  that  carried  a  more  assured  sweetness  than  any 
smile.  Gradually  she  revived,  lifted  up  her  delicate  hands 
between  her  face  and  the  firelight,  and  looked  at  the  baby 
which  lay  opposite  to  her  on  the  old  servant's  lap,  taking  in 
spoonfuls  with  much  content,  and  stretching  out  naked  feet 
towards  the  warmth.  Then,  as  her  consciousness  of  relief  grew 
into  contrasting  memory,  she  lifted  up  her  eyes  to  Mr.  Lyon, 
who  stood  close  by  her,  and  said,  in  her  pretty  broken  way  — 

"  I  knew  you  had  a  good  heart  when  you  took  your  hat  off. 
You  seemed  to  me  as  the  image  of  the  bien-aime  Saint  Jean." 

The  grateful  glance  of  those  blue-gray  eyes,  with  their  long 
shadow-making  eyelashes,  was  a  new  kind  of  good  to  Kufus 
Lyon ;  it  seemed  to  him  as  if  a  woman  had  never  really  looked 
at  him  before.  Yet  this  poor  thing  was  apparently  a  blind 
French  Catholic  —  of  delicate  nurture,  surely,  judging  from 
her  hands.  He  was  in  a  tremor ;  he  felt  that  it  would  be  rude 
to  question  her,  and  he  only  urged  her  now  to  take  a  little 
food.  She  accepted  it  with  evident  enjoyment,  looking  at  the 
child  continually,  and  then,  with  a  fresh  burst  of  gratitude, 
leaning  forward  to  press  the  servant's  hand,  and  say,  "Oh, 
you  are  good  !  "  Then  she  looked  up  at  Mr.  Lyon  again  and 
said,  "  Is  there  in  the  world  a  prettier  marmot  ?  " 

The  evening  passed ;  a  bed  was  made  up  for  the  strange 


FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL.  87 

woman,  and  Mr.  Lyon  had  not  asked  her  so  much  as  her  name. 
He  never  went  to  bed  himself  that  night.  He  spent  it  in  mis- 
ery, enduring  a  horrible  assault  of  Satan.  He  thought  a  frenzy 
had  seized  him.  Wild  visions  of  an  impossible  future  thrust 
themselves  upon  him.  He  dreaded  lest  the  woman  had  a  hus- 
band ;  he  wished  that  he  might  call  her  his  own,  that  he  might 
worship  her  beauty,  that  she  might  love  and  caress  him.  And 
what  to  the  mass  of  men  would  have  been  only  one  of  many 
allowable  follies  —  a  transient  fascination,  to  be  dispelled  by 
daylight  and  contact  with  those  common  facts  of  which  common- 
sense  is  the  reflex  —  was  to  him  a  spiritual  convulsion.  He 
was  as  one  who  raved,  and  knew  that  he  raved.  These  mad 
wishes  were  irreconcilable  with  what  he  was,  and  must  be,  as 
a  Christian  minister ;  nay,  penetrating  his  soul  as  tropic  heat 
penetrates  the  frame,  and  changes  for  it  all  aspects  and  all 
flavors,  they  were  irreconcilable  with  that  conception  of  the 
world  which  made  his  faith.  All  the  busy  doubt  which  had 
before  been  mere  impish  shadows  flitting  around  a  belief  that 
was  strong  with  the  strength  of  an  unswerving  moral  bias,  had 
now  gathered  blood  and  substance.  The  questioning  spirit 
had  become  suddenly  bold  and  blasphemous  :  it  no  longer 
insinuated  scepticism  —  it  prompted  defiance ;  it  no  longer 
expressed  cool  inquisitive  thought,  but  was  the  voice  of  a 
passionate  mood.  Yet  he  never  ceased  to  regard  it  as  the 
voice  of  the  tempter :  the  conviction  which  had  been  the  law 
of  his  better  life  remained  within  him  as  a  conscience. 

The  struggle  of  that  night  was  an  abridgment  of  all  the 
struggles  that  came  after.  Quick  souls  have  their  intensest 
life  in  the  first  anticipatory  sketch  of  what  may  or  will  be, 
and  the  pursuit  of  their  wish  is  the  pursuit  of  that  paradisiacal 
vision  which  only  impelled  them,  and  is  left  farther  and  farther 
behind,  vanishing  forever  even  out  of  hope  in  the  moment 
which  is  called  success. 

The  next  morning  Mr.  Lyon  heard  his  guest's  history.  She 
was  the  daughter  of  a  French  officer  of  considerable  rank,  who 
had  fallen  in  the  Kussian  campaign.  She  had  escaped  from 
France  to  England  with  much  difficulty  in  order  to  rejoin 
her  husband,  a  young  Englishman,  to  whom  she  had  become 


88  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL. 

attached  during  his  detention  as  a  prisoner  of  war  on  parole 
at  Vesoul,  where  she  was  living  under  the  charge  of  some  rela- 
tives, and  to  whom  she  had  been  married  without  the  consent 
of  her  family.  Her  husband  had  served  in  the  Hanoverian 
army,  had  obtained  his  discharge  in  order  to  visit  England  on 
some  business,  with  the  nature  of  which  she  was  not  acquainted, 
and  had  been  taken  prisoner  as  a  suspected  spy.  A  short  time 
after  their  marriage  he  and  his  fellow-prisoners  had  been  moved 
to  a  town  nearer  the  coast,  and  she  had  remained  in  wretched 
uncertainty  about  him,  until  at  last  a  letter  had  come  from  him 
telling  her  that  an  exchange  of  prisoners  had  occurred,  that  he 
was  in  England,  that  she  must  use  her  utmost  effort  to  follow 
him,  and  that  on  arriving  on  English  ground  she  must  send 
him  word  under  a  cover  which  he  enclosed,  bearing  an  address 
in  London.  Fearing  the  opposition  of  her  friends,  she  started 
unknown  to  them,  with  a  very  small  supply  of  money ;  and 
after  enduring  much  discomfort  and  many  fears  in  waiting  for 
a  passage,  which  she  at  last  got  in  a  small  trading  smack,  she 
arrived  at  Southampton  —  ill.  Before  she  was  able  to  write, 
her  baby  was  born ;  and  before  her  husband's  answer  came,  she 
had  been  obliged  to  pawn  some  clothes  and  trinkets.  He  de- 
sired her  to  travel  to  London  where  he  would  meet  her  at  the 
Belle  Sauvage,  adding  that  he  was  himself  in  distress,  and  un- 
able to  come  to  her  :  when  once  she  was  in  London  they  would 
take  ship  and  quit  the  country.  Arrived  at  the  Belle  Sauvage, 
the  poor  thing  waited  three  days  in  vain  for  her  husband :  on 
the  fourth  a  letter  came  in  a  strange  hand,  saying  that  in  his 
last  moments  he  had  desired  this  letter  to  be  written  to  inform 
her  of  his  death,  and  recommend  her  to  return  to  her  friends. 
She  could  choose  no  other  course,  but  she  had  soon  been  re- 
duced to  walking,  that  she  might  save  her  pence  to  buy  bread 
with ;  and  on  the  evening  when  she  made  her  appeal  to  Mr. 
Lyon,  she  had  pawned  the  last  thing,  over  and  above  needful 
clothing,  that  she  could  persuade  herself  to  part  with.  The 
things  she  had  not  borne  to  part  with  were  her  marriage-ring, 
and  a  locket  containing  her  husband's  hair,  and  bearing  his 
baptismal  name.  This  locket,  she  said,  exactly  resembled  one 
worn  by  her  husband  on  his  watch-chain,  only  that  his  bore 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.         89 

the  name  Annette,  and  contained  a  lock  of  her  hair.  The 
precious  trifle  now  hung  round  her  neck  by  a  cord,  for  she  had 
sold  the  small  gold  chain  which  formerly  held  it. 

The  only  guarantee  of  this  story,  besides  the  exquisite  can- 
dor of  her  face,  was  a  small  packet  of  papers  which  she  carried 
in  her  pocket,  consisting  of  her  husband's  few  letters,  the  letter 
which  announced  his  death,  and  her  marriage  certificate.  It 
was  not  so  probable  a  story  as  that  of  many  an  inventive 
vagrant;  but  Mr.  Lyon  did  not  doubt  it  for  a  moment.  It 
was  impossible  to  him  to  suspect  this  angelic-faced  woman, 
but  he  had  strong  suspicions  concerning  her  husband.  He 
could  not  help  being  glad  that  she  had  not  retained  the  address 
he  had  desired  her  to  send  to  in  London,  as  that  removed  any 
obvious  means  of  learning  particulars  about  him.  But  inqui- 
ries might  have  been  made  at  Vesoul  by  letter,  and  her  friends 
there  might  have  been  appealed  to.  A  consciousness,  not  to 
be  quite  silenced,  told  Mr.  Lyon  that  this  was  the  course  he 
ought  to  take,  but  it  would  have  required  an  energetic  self- 
conquest,  and  he  was  excused  from  it  by  Annette's  own  dis- 
inclination to  return  to  her  relatives,  if  any  other  acceptable 
possibility  could  be  found. 

He  dreaded,  with  a  violence  of  feeling  which  surmounted 
all  struggles,  lest  anything  should  take  her  away,  and  place 
such  barriers  between  them  as  would  make  it  unlikely  or  im- 
possible that  she  should  ever  love  him  well  enough  to  become 
his  wife.  Yet  he  saw  with  perfect  clearness  that  unless  he 
tore  up  this  mad  passion  by  the  roots,  his  ministerial  useful- 
ness would  be  frustrated,  and  the  repose  of  his  soul  would  be 
destroyed.  This  woman  was  an  unregenerate  Catholic ;  ten 
minutes'  listening  to  her  artless  talk  made  that  plain  to  him  : 
even  if  her  position  had  been  less  equivocal,  to  unite  himself 
to  such  a  woman  was  nothing  less  than  a  spiritual  fall.  It  was 
already  a  fall  that  he  had  wished  there  was  no  high  purpose 
to  which  he  owed  an  allegiance  —  that  he  had  longed  to  fly  to 
some  backwoods  where  there  was  no  church  to  reproach  him, 
and  where  he  might  have  this  sweet  woman  to  wife,  and  know 
the  joys  of  tenderness.  Those  sensibilities  which  in  most  lives 
are  diffused  equally  through  the  youthful  years,  were  aroused 


90  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL. 

suddenly  in  Mr.  Lyon,  as  some  men  have  their  special  genius 
revealed  to  them  by  a  tardy  concurrence  of  conditions.  His 
love  was  the  first  love  of  a  fresh  young  heart  full  of  wonder 
and  worship.  But  what  to  one  man  is  the  virtue  which  he  has 
sunk  below  the  possibility  of  aspiring  to,  is  to  another  the 
backsliding  by  which  he  forfeits  his  spiritual  crown. 

The  end  was,  that  Annette  remained  in  his  house.  He  had 
striven  against  himself  so  far  as  to  represent  her  position  to 
some  chief  matrons  in  his  congregation,  praying  and  yet  dread- 
ing that  they  would  so  take  her  by  the  hand  as  to  impose  on 
him  that  denial  of  his  own  longing  not  to  let  her  go  out  of  his 
sight,  which  he  found  it  too  hard  to  impose  on  himself.  But 
they  regarded  the  case  coldly :  the  woman  was,  after  all,  a  va- 
grant. Mr.  Lyon  was  observed  to  be  surprisingly  weak  on  the 
subject — his  eagerness  seemed  disproportionate  and  unbecom- 
ing ;  and  this  young  Frenchwoman,  unable  to  express  herself 
very  clearly,  was  no  more  interesting  to  those  matrons  and 
their  husbands  than  other  pretty  young  women  suspiciously 
circumstanced.  They  were  willing  to  subscribe  something  to 
carry  her  on  her  way,  or  if  she  took  some  lodgings  they  would 
give  her  a  little  sewing,  and  endeavor  to  convert  her  from  Pa- 
pistry. If,  however,  she  was  a  respectable  person,  as  she  said, 
the  only  proper  thing  for  her  was  to  go  back  to  her  own  coun- 
try and  friends.  In  spite  of  himself,  Mr.  Lyon  exulted.  There 
seemed  a  reason  now  that  he  should  keep  Annette  under  his 
own  eyes.  He  told  himself  that  no  real  object  would  be  served 
by  his  providing  food  and  lodging  for  her  elsewhere  —  an  ex- 
pense which  he  could  ill  afford.  And  she  was  apparently  so 
helpless,  except  as  to  the  one  task  of  attending  to  her  baby, 
that  it  would  have  been  folly  to  think  of  her  exerting  herself 
for  her  own  support. 

But  this  course  of  his  was  severely  disapproved  by  his 
church.  There  were  various  signs  that  the  minister  was  under 
some  evil  influence :  his  preaching  wanted  its  old  fervor,  he 
seemed  to  shun  the  intercourse  of  his  brethren,  and  very 
mournful  suspicions  were  entertained.  A  formal  remonstrance 
was  presented  to  him,  but  he  met  it  as  if  he  had  already  deter- 
mined to  act  in  anticipation  of  it.  He  admitted  that  external 


FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL.  91 

circumstances,  conjoined  with  a  peculiar  state  of  mind,  were 
likely  to  hinder  the  fruitful  exercise  of  his  ministry,  and  he 
resigned  it.  There  was  much  sorrowing,  much  expostulation, 
but  he  declared  that  for  the  present  he  was  unable  to  unfold 
himself  more  fully ;  he  only  wished  to  state  solemnly  that 
Annette  Ledru,  though  blind  in  spiritual  things,  was  in  a 
worldly  sense  a  pure  and  virtuous  woman.  No  more  was  to  be 
said,  and  he  departed  to  a  distant  town.  Here  he  maintained 
himself,  Annette,  and  the  child,  with  the  remainder  of  his 
stipend,  and  with  the  wages  he  earned  as  a  printer's  reader. 
Annette  was  one  of  those  angelic-faced  helpless  women  who 
take  all  things  as  manna  from  heaven :  the  good  image  of  the 
well-beloved  Saint  John  wished  her  to  stay  with  him,  and  there 
was  nothing  else  that  she  wished  for  except  the  unattainable. 
Yet  for  a  whole  year  Mr.  Lyon  never  dared  to  tell  Annette 
that  he  loved  her :  he  trembled  before  this  woman ;  he  saw 
that  the  idea  of  his  being  her  lover  was  too  remote  from  her 
mind  for  her  to  have  any  idea  that  she  ought  not  to  live  with 
him.  She  had  never  known,  never  asked  the  reason  why  he 
gave  up  his  ministry.  She  seemed  to  entertain  as  little  con- 
cern about  the  strange  world  in  which  she  lived  as  a  bird  in  its 
nest :  an  avalanche  had  fallen  over  the  past,  but  she  sat  warm 
and  uncrushed — there  was  food  for  many  morrows,  and  her 
baby  flourished.  She  did  not  seem  even  to  care  about  a 
priest,  or  about  having  her  child  baptized  ;  and  on  the  subject 
of  religion  Mr.  Lyon  was  as  timid,  and  shrank  as  much  from 
speaking  to  her,  as  on  the  subject  of  his  love.  He  dreaded  any- 
thing that  might  cause  her  to  feel  a  sudden  repulsion  towards 
him.  He  dreaded  disturbing  her  simple  gratitude  and  content. 
In  these  days  his  religious  faith  was  not  slumbering ;  it  was 
awake  and  achingly  conscious  of  having  fallen  in  a  struggle. 
He  had  had  a  great  treasure  committed  to  him,  and  had  flung 
it  away :  he  held  himself  a  backslider.  His  unbelieving 
thoughts  never  gained  the  full  ear  and  consent  of  his  soul. 
His  prayers  had  been  stifled  by  the  sense  that  there  was  some- 
thing he  preferred  to  complete  obedience :  they  had  ceased  to 
be  anything  but  intermittent  cries  and  confessions,  and  a  sub- 
missive presentiment,  rising  at  times  even  to  an  entreaty,  that 


92  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL. 

some  great  discipline  might  come,  that  the  dulled  spiritual 
sense  might  be  roused  to  full  vision  and  hearing  as  of  old,  and 
the  supreme  facts  become  again  supreme  in  his  soul.  Mr.  Lyon 
will  perhaps  seem  a  very  simple  personage,  with  pitiably  nar- 
row theories ;  but  none  of  our  theories  are  quite  large  enough 
for  all  the  disclosures  of  time,  and  to  the  end  of  men's  strug- 
gles a  penalty  will  remain  for  those  who  sink  from  the  ranks  of 
the  heroes  into  the  crowd  for  whom  the  heroes  fight  and  die. 

One  day,  however,  Annette  learned  Mr.  Lyon's  secret.  The 
baby  had  a  tooth  coming,  and  being  large  and  strong  now,  was 
noisily  fretful.  Mr.  Lyon,  though  he  had  been  working  extra 
hours  and  was  much  in  need  of  repose,  took  the  child  from  its 
mother  immediately  on  entering  tht.  house  and  walked  about 
with  it,  patting  and  talking  soothingly  to  it.  The  stronger 
grasp,  the  new  sensations,  were  a  successful  anodyne,  and  baby 
went  to  sleep  on  his  shoulder.  But  fearful  lest  any  movement 
should  disturb  it,  he  sat  down,  and  endured  the  bondage  of 
holding  it  still  against  his  shoulder. 

"You  do  nurse  baby  well,"  said  Annette,  approvingly. 
"  Yet  you  never  nursed  before  I  came  ?  " 

"  No,"  said  Mr.  Lyon.     "  I  had  no  brothers  and  sisters." 

"  Why  were  you  not  married  ?  "  Annette  had  never  thought 
of  asking  that  question  before. 

"  Because  I  never  loved  any  woman  —  till  now.  I  thought 
I  should  never  marry.  Now  I  wish  to  marry." 

Annette  started.  She  did  not  see  at  once  that  she  was  the 
woman  he  wanted  to  marry ;  what  had  flashed  on  her  mind 
was,  that  there  might  be  a  great  change  in  Mr.  Lyou's  life. 
It  was  as  if  the  lightning  had  entered  into  her  dream  and  half 
awaked  her. 

"Do  you  think  it  foolish,  Annette,  that  I  should  wish  to 
marry  ?  " 

"  I  did  not  expect  it,"  she  said,  doubtfully.  "  I  did  not 
know  you  thought  about  it." 

"  You  know  the  woman  I  should  like  to  marry  ?  " 

"  I  know  her  ?  "  she  said,  interrogatively,  blushing  deeply. 

"  It  is  you,  Annette  —  you  whom  I  have  loved  better  than 
my  duty.  I  forsook  everything  for  you." 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  93 

Mr.  Lyon  paused :  he  was  about  to  do  what  he  felt  would 
be  ignoble  —  to  urge  what  seemed  like  a  claim. 

"  Can  you  love  me,  Annette  ?  Will  you  be  my  wife  ? " 
Annette  trembled  and  looked  miserable. 

"  Do  not  speak  —  forget  it,"  said  Mr.  Lyon,  rising  suddenly 
and  speaking  with  loud  energy.  "  No,  no  —  I  do  not  want  it 
—  I  do  not  wish  it." 

The  baby  awoke  as  he  started  up ;  he  gave  the  child  into 
Annette's  arms,  and  left  her. 

His  work  took  him  away  early  the  next  morning  and  the 
next  again.  They  did  not  need  to  speak  much  to  each  other. 
The  third  day  Mr.  Lyon  was  too  ill  to  go  to  work.  His  frame 
had  been  overwrought;  he  had  been  too  poor  to  have  suffi- 
ciently nourishing  food,  and  under  the  shattering  of  his  long- 
deferred  hope  his  health  had  given  way.  They  had  no  regular 
servant  —  only  occasional  help  from  an  old  woman,  who  lit 
the  fires  and  put  on  the  kettles.  Annette  was  forced  to  be  the 
sick-nurse,  and  this  sudden  demand  on  her  shook  away  some 
of  her  torpor.  The  illness  was  a  serious  one,  and  the  medical 
man  one  day  hearing  Mr.  Lyon  in  his  delirium  raving  with 
an  astonishing  fluency  in  Biblical  language,  suddenly  looked 
round  with  increased  curiosity  at  Annette,  and  asked  if  she 
were  the  sick  man's  wife,  or  some  other  relative. 

"  No  —  no  relation,"  said  Annette,  shaking  her  head.  "  He 
has  been  good  to  me." 

"  How  long  have  you  lived  with  him  ?  " 

"  More  than  a  year." 

"  Was  he  a  preacher  once  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  When  did  he  leave  off  being  a  preacher  ?  " 

"  Soon  after  he  took  care  of  me." 

"  Is  that  his  child  ?  " 

"  Sir,"  said  Annette,  coloring  indignantly,  "  I  am  a  widow." 

The  doctor,  she  thought,  looked  at  her  oddly,  but  he  asked 
no  more  questions. 

When  the  sick  man  was  getting  better,  and  able  to  enjoy 
invalid's  food,  he  observed  one  day,  while  he  was  taking  some 
broth,  that  Annette  was  looking  at  him  ;  he  paused  to  look 


94  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL. 

at  her  in  return,  and  was  struck  with  a  new  expression  in  her 
face,  quite  distinct  from  the  merely  passive  sweetness  which 
usually  characterized  it.  She  laid  her  little  hand  on  his, 
which  was  now  transparently  thin,  and  said,  "  I  am  getting 
very  wise ;  I  have  sold  some  of  the  books  to  make  money  — 
the  doctor  told  me  where ;  and  I  have  looked  into  the  shops 
where  they  sell  caps  and  bonnets  and  pretty  things,  and  I  can 
do  all  that,  and  get  more  money  to  keep  us.  And  when  you 
are  well  enough  to  get  up,  we  will  go  out  and  be  married  — 
shall  we  not  ?  See  !  and  la  petite  "  (the  baby  had  never  been 
named  anything  else)  "shall  call  you  Papa  —  and  then  we 
shall  never  part." 

Mr.  Lyon  trembled.  This  illness  —  something  else,  perhaps 
—  had  made  a  great  change  in  Annette.  A  fortnight  after 
that  they  were  married.  The  day  before,  he  had  ventured  to 
ask  her  if  she  felt  any  difficulty  about  her  religion,  and  if  she 
would  consent  to  have  la  petite  baptized  and  brought  up  as  a 
Protestant.  She  shook  her  head  and  said  very  simply  — 

"  No  :  in  France,  in  other  days,  I  would  have  minded ;  but 
all  is  changed.  I  never  was  fond  of  religion,  but  I  knew  it 
was  right.  J'aimais  les  fleurs,  les  bals,  la  musique,  et  mon 
mari  qui  etait  beau.  But  all  that  is  gone  away.  There  is 
nothing  of  my  religion  in  this  country.  But  the  good  God 
must  be  here,  for  you  are  good ;  I  leave  all  to  you." 

It  was  clear  that  Annette  regarded  her  present  life  as  a  sort 
of  death  to  the  world  —  an  existence  on  a  remote  island  where 
she  had  been  saved  from  wreck.  She  was  too  indolent  men- 
tally, too  little  interested,  to  acquaint  herself  with  any  secrets 
of  the  isle.  The  transient  energy,  the  more  vivid  conscious- 
ness and  sympathy  which  had  been  stirred  in  her  during  Mr. 
Lyon's  illness,  had  soon  subsided  into  the  old  apathy  to  every- 
thing except  her  child.  She  withered  like  a  plant  in  strange 
air,  and  the  three  years  of  life  that  remained  were  but  a  slow 
and  gentle  death.  Those  three  years  were  to  Mr.  Lyon  a  pe- 
riod of  such  self-suppression  and  life  in  another  as  few  men 
know.  Strange !  that  the  passion  for  this  woman,  which  he 
felt  to  have  drawn  him.  aside  from  the  right  as  much  as  if  he 
had  broken  the  most  solemn  vows  —  for  that  only  was  right  to 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.         95 

him  which  he  held  the  best  and  highest  —  the  passion  for  a 
being  who  had  no  glimpse  of  his  thoughts  induced  a  more 
thorough  renunciation  than  he  had  ever  known  in  the  time  of 
his  complete  devotion  to  his  ministerial  career.  He  had  no 
flattery  now,  either  from  himself  or  the  world ;  he  knew  that 
he  had  fallen,  and  his  world  had  forgotten  him,  or  shook  their 
heads  at  his  memory.  The  only  satisfaction  he  had  was  the 
satisfaction  of  his  tenderness  —  which  meant  untiring  work, 
untiring  patience,  untiring  wakefulness  even  to  the  dumb  signs 
of  feeling  in  a  creature  whom  he  alone  cared  for. 

The  day  of  parting  came,  and  he  was  left  with  little  Esther 
as  the  one  visible  sign  of  that  four  years'  break  in  his  life. 
A  year  afterwards  he  entered  the  ministry  again,  and  lived 
with  the  utmost  sparingness  that  Esther  might  be  so  educated 
as  to  be  able  to  get  her  own  bread  in  case  of  his  death.  Her 
probable  facility  in  acquiring  French  naturally  suggested  his 
sending  her  to  a  French  school,  which  would  give  her  a  special 
advantage  as  a  teacher.  It  was  a  Protestant  school,  and 
French  Protestantism  had  the  high  recommendation  of  being 
non-Prelatical.  It  was  understood  that  Esther  would  con- 
tract no  Papistical  superstitions  ;  and  this  was  perfectly  true ; 
but  she  contracted,  as  we  see,  a  good  deal  of  non-Papistical 
vanity. 

Mr.  Lyon's  reputation  as  a  preacher  and  devoted  pastor  had 
revived ;  but  some  dissatisfaction  beginning  to  be  felt  by  his 
congregation  at  a  certain  laxity  detected  by  them  in  his  views 
as  to  the  limits  of  salvation,  which  he  had  in  one  sermon  even 
hinted  might  extend  to  unconscious  recipients  of  mercy,  he 
had  found  it  desirable  seven  years  ago  to  quit  this  ten  years' 
pastorate  and  accept  a  call  from  the  less  important  church  in 
Malthouse  Yard,  Treby  Magna. 

This  was  Eufus  Lyon's  history,  at  that  time  unknown  in 
its  fulness  to  any  human  being  besides  himself.  We  can 
perhaps  guess  what  memories  they  were  that  relaxed  the 
stringency  of  his  doctrine  on  the  point  of  salvation.  In  the 
deepest  of  all  senses  his  heart  said  — 

"  Though  she  be  dead,  yet  let  me  think  she  lives, 
And  feed  mv  mind,  that  dies  for  want  of  her." 


96  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  EADICAL. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

M.  It  was  but  yesterday  you  spoke  him  well  — 

You  've  changed  your  mind  so  soon  ? 
N.  Not  I  — 'tis  he 

That,  changing  to  my  thought,  has  changed  my  mind. 

No  man  puts  rotten  apples  in  his  pouch 

Because  their  upper  side  looked  fair  to  him. 

Constancy  in  mistake  is  constant  folly. 

THE  news  that  the  rich  heir  of  the  Transomes  was  actually 
come  back,  and  had  been  seen  at  Treby,  was  carried  to  some 
one  else  who  had  more  reasons  for  being  interested  in  it  than 
the  Reverend  Eufus  Lyon  was  yet  conscious  of  having.  It 
was  owing  to  this  that  at  three  o'clock,  two  days  afterwards, 
a  carriage  and  pair,  with  coachman  and  footman  in  crimson 
and  drab,  passed  through  the  lodge-gates  of  Transome  Court. 
Inside  there  was  a  hale  good-natured-looking  man  of  sixty, 
whose  hands  rested  on  a  knotted  stick  held  between  his  knees ; 
and  a  blue-eyed,  well-featured  lady,  fat  and  middle-aged  —  a 
mountain  of  satin,  lace,  and  exquisite  muslin  embroidery. 
They  were  not  persons  of  highly  remarkable  appearance,  but 
to  most  Trebians  they  seemed  absolutely  unique,  and  likely 
to  be  known  anywhere.  If  you  had  looked  down  on  them 
from  the  box  of  Sampson's  coach,  he  would  have  said,  after 
lifting  his  hat,  "  Sir  Maximus  and  his  lady  —  did  you  see  ?  " 
thinking  it  needless  to  add  the  surname. 

"  We  shall  find  her  greatly  elated,  doubtless,"  Lady  Debarry 
was  saying.  "  She  has  been  in  the  shade  so  long." 

"  Ah,  poor  thing  !  "  said  Sir  Maximus.  "  A  fine  woman  she 
was  in  her  bloom.  I  remember  the  first  county  ball  she  at- 
tended we  were  all  ready  to  fight  for  the  sake  of  dancing  with 
her.  I  always  liked  her  from  that  time  —  I  never  swallowed 
the  scandal  about  her  myself." 

"  If  we  are  to  be  intimate  with  her,"  said  Lady  Debarry,  "I 
wish  you  would  avoid  making  such  allusions,  Sir  Maximus. 
I  should  not  like  Selina  and  Harriet  to  hear  them." 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  97 

"  My  dear,  I  should  have  forgotten  all  about  the  scandal, 
only  you  remind  me  of  it  sometimes,"  retorted  the  Baronet, 
smiling  and  taking  out  his  snuff-box. 

"  These  sudden  turns  of  fortune  are  often  dangerous  to  an 
excitable  constitution,"  said  Lady  Debarry,  not  choosing  to 
notice  her  husband's  epigram.  "  Poor  Lady  Alicia  Methurst 
got  heart-disease  from  a  sudden  piece  of  luck  —  the  death  of 
her  uncle,  you  know.  If  Mrs.  Transome  were  wise  she  would 
go  to  town  —  she  can  afford  it  now  —  and  consult  Dr.  Trun- 
cheon. I  should  say  myself  he  would  order  her  digitalis  :  I 
have  often  guessed  exactly  what  a  prescription  would  be. 
But  it  certainly  was  always  one  of  her  weak  points  to  think 
that  she  understood  medicine  better  than  other  people." 

"  She  's  a  healthy  woman  enough,  surely  :  see  how  upright 
she  is,  and  she  rides  about  like  a  girl  of  twenty." 

"  She  is  so  thin  that  she  makes  me  shudder." 

"  Pooh !  she 's  slim  and  active ;  women  are  not  bid  for  by 
the  pound." 

"  Pray  don't  be  so  coarse." 

Sir  Maximus  laughed  and  showed  his  good  teeth,  which 
made  his  laughter  very  becoming.  The  carriage  stopped,  and 
they  were  soon  ushered  into  Mrs.  Transome's  sitting-room, 
where  she  was  working  at  her  worsted  embroidery.  A  little 
daily  embroidery  had  been  a  constant  element  in  Mrs.  Tran- 
some's life ;  that  soothing  occupation  of  taking  stitches  to 
produce  what  neither  she  nor  any  one  else  wanted,  was  then 
the  resource  of  many  a  well-born  and  unhappy  woman. 

She  received  much  warm  congratulation  and  pressure  of  her 
hand  with  perfect  composure  of  manner;  but  she  became 
paler  than  usual,  and  her  hands  turned  quite  cold.  The 
Debarrys  did  not  yet  know  what  Harold's  politics  were. 

"  Well,  our  lucky  youngster  is  come  in  the  nick  of  time," 
said  Sir  Maximus  :  "  if  he  '11  stand,  he  and  Philip  can  run  in 
harness  together  and  keep  out  both  the  Whigs." 

"  It  is  really  quite  a  providential  thing  —  his  returning  just 
now,"  said  Lady  Debarry.  "  I  could  n't  help  thinking  that 
something  would  occur  to  prevent  Philip  from  having  such  a 
man  as  Peter  Garstin  for  his  colleague." 


98  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

"  I  call  my  friend  Harold  a  youngster,"  said  Sir  Maximus, 
"  for,  you  know,  I  remember  him  only  as  he  was  when  that 
portrait  was  taken." 

"  That  is  a  long  while  ago,"  said  Mrs.  Transome.  "  My  son 
is  much  altered,  as  you  may  imagine." 

There  was  a  confused  sound  of  voices  in  the  library  while 
this  talk  was  going  on.  Mrs.  Transome  chose  to  ignore  that 
noise,  but  her  face,  from  being  pale,  began  to  flush  a  little. 

"  Yes,  yes,  on  the  outside,  I  dare  say.  But  he  was  a  fine 
fellow  —  I  always  liked  him.  And  if  anybody  had  asked  me 
what  I  should  choose  for  the  good  of  the  county,  I  could  n't 
have  thought  of  anything  better  than  having  a  young  Tran- 
some for  a  neighbor  who  will  take  an  active  part.  The  Tran- 
somes  and  the  Debarrys  were  always  on  the  right  side  together 
in  old  days.  Of  course  he  '11  stand  —  he  has  made  up  his 
mind  to  it  ?  " 

The  need  for  an  answer  to  this  embarrassing  question  was 
deferred  by  the  increase  of  inarticulate  sounds  accompanied 
by  a  bark  from  the  library,  and  the  sudden  appearance  at  the 
tapestry-hung  doorway  of  old  Mr.  Transome  with  a  cord  round 
his  waist,  playing  a  very  poor-paced  horse  for  a  black-maned 
little  boy  about  three  years  old,  who  was  urging  him  on  with 
loud  encouraging  noises  and  occasional  thumps  from  a  stick 
which  he  wielded  with  some  difficulty.  The  old  man  paused 
with  a  vague  gentle  smile  at  the  doorway,  while  the  Baronet 
got  up  to  speak  to  him.  Nimrod  snuffed  at  his  master's  legs 
to  ascertain  that  he  was  not  hurt,  and  the  little  boy,  finding 
something  new  to  be  looked  at,  let  go  the  cord  and  came 
round  in  front  of  the  company,  dragging  his  stick,  and  stand- 
ing at  a  safe  war-dancing  distance  as  he  fixed  his  great  black 
eyes  on  Lady  Debarry. 

"  Dear  me,  what  a  splendid  little  boy,  Mrs.  Trausome  !  why 
—  it  cannot  be  —  can  it  be  —  that  you  have  the  happiness  to 
be  a  grandmamma  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  that  is  my  son's  little  boy." 

"  Indeed ! "  said  Lady  Debarry,  really  amazed.  "  I  never 
heard  you  speak  of  his  marriage.  He  has  brought  you  home 
a  daughter-in-law,  then  ?  " 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  99 

"No,"  said  Mrs.  Transome,  coldly;  "she  is  dead." 

"  0 — o — oh !  "  said  Lady  Debarry,  in  a  tone  ludicrously  un- 
decided between  condolence,  satisfaction,  and  general  misti- 
ness. "  How  very  singular  —  I  mean  that  we  should  not  have 
heard  of  Mr.  Harold's  marriage.  But  he  's  a  charming  little 
fellow :  come  to  me,  you  round-cheeked  cherub." 

The  black  eyes  continued  fixed  as  if  by  a  sort  of  fascination 
on  Lady  Debarry's  face,  and  her  affable  invitation  was  un- 
heeded. At  last,  putting  his  head  forward  and  pouting  his 
lips,  the  cherub  gave  forth  with  marked  intention  the  sounds 
"  Nau-o-oom,"  many  times  repeated :  apparently  they  summed 
up  his  opinion  of  Lady  Debarry,  and  may  perhaps  have  meant 
"naughty  old  woman,"  but  his  speech  was  a  broken  lisping 
polyglot  of  hazardous  interpretation.  Then  he  turned  to  pull 
at  the  Blenheim  spaniel,  which,  being  old  and  peevish,  gave  a 
little  snap. 

"  Go,  go,  Harry ;  let  poor  Puff  alone  —  he  '11  bite  you,"  said 
Mrs.  Transome,  stooping  to  release  her  aged  pet. 

Her  words  were  too  suggestive,  for  Harry  immediately  laid 
hold  of  her  arm  with  his  teeth,  and  bit  with  all  his  might. 
Happily  the  stuffs  upon  it  were  some  protection,  but  the  pain 
forced  Mrs.  Transome  to  give  a  low  cry ;  and  Sir  Maximus, 
who  had  now  turned  to  reseat  himself,  shook  the  little  rascal 
off,  whereupon  he  burst  away  and  trotted  into  the  library 
again. 

"  I  fear  you  are  hurt,"  said  Lady  Debarry,  with  sincere  con- 
cern. "  What  a  little  savage  !  Do  have  your  arm  attended  to, 
my  dear  —  I  recommend  fomentation — don't  think  of  me." 

"Oh,  thank  you,  it  is  nothing,"  said  Mrs.  Trausome,  biting 
her  lip  and  smiling  alternately ;  "  it  will  soon  go  off.  The 
pleasures  of  being  a  grandmamma,  you  perceive.  The  child 
has  taken  a  dislike  to  me ;  but  he  makes  quite  a  new  life  for 
Mr.  Transome ;  they  were  playfellows  at  once." 

"Bless  my  heart !  "  said  Sir  Maximus,  "it  is  odd  to  think 
of  Harold  having  been  a  family  man  so  long.  I  made  up  my 
mind  he  was  a  young  bachelor.  What  an  old  stager  I  am,  to 
be  sure !  And  whom  has  he  married  ?  I  hope  we  shall  soon 
have  the  pleasure  of  seeing  Mrs.  Harold  Transome."  Sir 


100  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  KADICAL. 

Maximus,  occupied  with  old  Mr.  Transome,  had  not  overheard 
the  previous  conversation  on  that  subject. 

"  She  is  no  longer  living,"  Lady  Debarry  hastily  interposed ; 
"but  now,  my  dear  Sir  Maximus,  we  must  not  hinder  Mrs. 
Transome  from  attending  to  her  arm.  I  am  sure  she  is  in 
pain.  Don't  say  another  word,  my  dear  —  we  shall  see  you 
again  —  you  and  Mr.  Harold  will  come  and  dine  with  us  on 
Thursday  —  say  yes,  only  yes.  Sir  Maximus  is  longing  to  see 
him  ;  and  Philip  will  be  down." 

"  Yes,  yes  !  "  said  Sir  Maximus ;  "  he  must  lose  no  time  in 
making  Philip's  acquaintance.  Tell  him  Philip  is  a  fine  fellow 
—  carried  everything  before  him  at  Oxford.  And  your  son 
must  be  returned  along  with  him  for  North  Loamshire.  You 
said  he  meant  to  stand  ?  " 

"  I  will  write  and  let  you  know  if  Harold  has  any  engage- 
ment for  Thursday  ;  he  would  of  course  be  happy  otherwise," 
said  Mrs.  Transome,  evading  the  question. 

"If  not  Thursday,  the  next  day  —  the  very  first  day  he 
can." 

The  visitors  left,  and  Mrs.  Transome  was  almost  glad  of  the 
painful  bite  which  had  saved  her  from  being  questioned  fur- 
ther about  Harold's  politics.  "  This  is  the  last  visit  I  shall 
receive  from  them,"  she  said  to  herself  as  the  door  closed  be- 
hind them,  and  she  rang  for  Denner. 

"  That  poor  creature  is  not  happy,  Sir  Maximus,"  said  Lady 
Debarry  as  they  drove  along.  "  Something  annoys  her  about 
her  son.  I  hope  there  is  nothing  unpleasant  in  his  character. 
Either  he  kept  his  marriage  a  secret  from  her,  or  she  was 
ashamed  of  it.  He  is  thirty-four  at  least  by  this  time.  After 
living  in  the  East  so  long  he  may  have  become  a  sort  of  per- 
son one  would  not  care  to  be  intimate  with,  and  that  savage 
boy  —  he  does  n't  look  like  a  lady's  child." 

"  Pooh,  my  dear,"  said  Sir  Maximus,  "  women  think  so  much 
of  those  minutiae.  In  the  present  state  of  the  country  it  is 
our  duty  to  look  at  a  man's  position  and  politics.  Philip  and 
my  brother  are  both  of  that  opinion,  and  I  think  they  know 
what 's  right,  if  any  man  does.  We  are  bound  to  regard  every 
man  of  our  party  as  a  public  instrument,  and  to  pull  all  together. 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  101 

The  Transomes  have  always  been  a  good  Tory  family,  but  it 
has  been  a  cipher  of  late  years.  This  young  fellow  coming 
back  with  a  fortune  to  give  the  family  a  head  and  a  position 
is  a  clear  gain  to  the  county ;  and  with  Philip  he  '11  get  into 
the  right  hands  —  of  course  he  wants  guiding,  having  been 
out  of  the  country  so  long.  All  we  have  to  ask  is,  whether  a 
man  's  a  Tory,  and  will  make  a  stand  for  the  good  of  the  coun- 
try ?  —  that 's  the  plain  English  of  the  matter.  And  I  do  beg 
of  you,  my  dear,  to  set  aside  all  these  gossiping  niceties,  and 
exert  yourself,  like  a  woman  of  sense  and  spirit  as  you  are,  to 
bring  the  right  people  together." 

Here  Sir  Maximus  gave  a  deep  cough,  took  out  his  snuff- 
box, and  tapped  it :  he  had  made  a  serious  marital  speech,  an 
exertion  to  which  he  was  rarely  urged  by  anything  smaller 
than  a  matter  of  conscience.  And  this  outline  of  the  whole 
duty  of  a  Tory  was  matter  of  conscience  with  him ;  though 
the  "  Duffield  Watchman  "  had  pointed  expressly  to  Sir  Maxi- 
mus Debarry  amongst  others,  in  branding  the  co-operation  of 
the  Tories  as  a  conscious  selfishness  and  reckless  immorality, 
which,  however,  would  be  defeated  by  the  co-operation  of 
all  the  friends  of  truth  and  liberty,  who,  the  "Watchman" 
trusted,  would  subordinate  all  non-political  differences  in 
order  to  return  representatives  pledged  to  support  the  present 
Government. 

"  I  am  sure,  Sir  Maximus,"  Lady  Debarry  answered,  "  you 
could  not  have  observed  that  anything  was  wanting  in  my 
manners  to  Mrs.  Transome." 

"  No,  no,  my  dear ;  but  I  say  this  by  way  of  caution.  Never 
mind  what  was  done  at  Smyrna,  or  whether  Transome  likes 
to  sit  with  his  heels  tucked  up.  We  may  surely  wink  at  a 
few  things  for  the  sake  of  the  public  interest,  if  God  Almighty 
does ;  and  if  he  did  n't,  I  don't  know  what  would  have 
become  of  the  country  —  Government  could  never  have  been 
carried  on,  and  many  a  good  battle  would  have  been  lost. 
That 's  the  philosophy  of  the  matter,  and  the  common-sense 
too." 

Good  Sir  Maximus  gave  a  deep  cough  and  tapped  his  box 
again,  inwardly  remarking,  that  if  he  had  not  been  such  a 


102  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL. 

lazy  fellow  he  might  have  made  as  good  a  figure  as  his  son 
Philip. 

But  at  this  point  the  carriage,  which  was  rolling  by  a  turn 
towards  Treby  Magna,  passed  a  well-dressed  man,  who  raised 
his  hat  to  Sir  Maximus,  and  called  to  the  coachman  to  stop. 

"  Excuse  me,  Sir  Maximus,"  said  this  personage,  standing 
uncovered  at  the  carriage-door,  "  but  I  have  just  learned  some- 
thing of  importance  at  Treby,  which  I  thought  you  would 
like  to  know  as  soon  as  possible." 

"  Ah  !  what 's  that  ?  Something  about  Garstin  or  Clement  ?  " 
said  Sir  Maximus,  seeing  the  other  draw  a  poster  from  his 
pocket. 

"  No  ;  rather  worse,  I  fear  you  will  think.  A  new  Eadical 
candidate.  I  got  this  by  a  stratagem  from  the  printer's  boy. 
They  're  not  posted  yet." 

"  A  Eadical ! "  said  Sir  Maximus,  in  a  tone  of  incredulous 
disgust,  as  he  took  the  folded  bill.  "  What  fool  is  he  ?  — 
he  '11  have  no  chance." 

"  They  say  he 's  richer  than  Garstin." 

"  Harold  Transome  !  "  shouted  Sir  Maximus,  as  he  read  the 
name  in  three-inch  letters.  "  I  don't  believe  it  —  it 's  a  trick 
—  it 's  a  squib  :  why  —  why  —  we  've  just  been  to  his  place  — 
eh?  do  you  know  any  more?  Speak,  sir — speak;  don't 
deal  out  your  story  like  a  damned  mountebank,  who  wants  to 
keep  people  gaping." 

"  Sir  Maximus,  pray  don't  give  way  so,"  said  Lady  Debarry. 

"  I  'm  afraid  there 's  no  doubt  about  it,  sir,"  said  Christian. 
"  After  getting  the  bill,  I  met  Mr.  Labron's  clerk,  and  he  said 
he  had  just  had  the  whole  story  from  Jermyn's  clerk.  The 
Earn  Inn  is  engaged  already,  and  a  committee  is  being  made 
up.  He  says  Jermyn  goes  like  a  steam-engine,  when  he  has  a 
mind,  although  he  makes  such  long-winded  speeches." 

"  Jermyn  be  hanged  for  a  two-faced  rascal !  Tell  Mitchell 
to  drive  on.  It 's  of  no  use  to  stay  chattering  here.  Jump 
up  on  the  box  and  go  home  with  us.  I  may  want  you." 

"You  see  I  was  right,  Sir  Maximus,"  said  the  Baronet's 
wife ;  "  I  had  an  instinct  that  we  should  find  him  an  un- 
pleasant person." 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  103 

"  Fudge  !  if  you  had  such  a  fine  instinct,  why  did  you  let  us 
go  to  Transome  Court  and  make  fools  of  ourselves  ?  " 

"  Would  you  have  listened  to  me  ?  But  of  course  you  will 
not  have  him  to  dine  with  you  ?  " 

"  Dine  with  me  ?  I  should  think  not.  I  'd  sooner  he 
should  dine  off  me.  I  see  how  it  is  clearly  enough.  He  has 
become  a  regular  beast  among  those  Mahometans — he's  got 
neither  religion  nor  morals  left.  He  can't  know  anything 
about  English  politics.  He  '11  go  and  cut  his  own  nose  off  as 
a  landholder,  and  never  know.  However,  he  won't  get  in  — 
he'll  spend  his  money  for  nothing." 

"  I  fear  he  is  a  very  licentious  man,"  said  Lady  Debarry. 
"  We  know  now  why  his  mother  seemed  so  uneasy.  I  should 
think  she  reflects  a  little,  poor  creature." 

"  It 's  a  confounded  nuisance  we  did  n't  meet  Christian  on 
our  way,  instead  of  coming  back ;  but  better  now  than  later. 
He's  an  uncommonly  adroit,  useful  fellow,  that  factotum  of 
Philip's.  I  wish  Phil  would  take  my  man  and  give  me 
Christian.  I  'd  make  him  house-steward ;  he  might  reduce 
the  accounts  a  little." 

Perhaps  Sir  Maximus  would  not  have  been  so  sanguine  as 
to  Mr.  Christian's  economical  virtues  if  he  had  seen  that  gen- 
tleman relaxing  himself  the  same  evening  among  the  other 
distinguished  dependants  of  the  family  and  frequenters  of  the 
steward's  room.  But  a  man  of  Sir  Maximus's  rank  is  like 
those  antediluvian  animals  whom  the  system  of  things  con- 
demned to  carry  such  a  huge  bulk  that  they  really  could  not 
inspect  their  bodily  appurtenance,  and  had  no  conception  of 
their  own  tails  :  their  parasites  doubtless  had  a  merry  time  of 
it,  and  often  did  extremely  well  when  the  high-bred  saurian  him- 
self was  ill  at  ease.  Treby  Manor,  measured  from  the  front 
saloon  to  the  remotest  shed,  was  as  large  as  a  moderate-sized 
village,  and  there  were  certainly  more  lights  burning  in  it 
every  evening,  more  wine,  spirits,  and  ale  drunk,  more  waste 
and  more  folly,  than  could  be  found  in  some  large  villages. 
There  was  fast  revelry  in  the  steward's  room,  and  slow  revelry 
in  the  Scotch  bailiff's  room ;  short  whist,  costume,  and  flirta- 
tion in  the  housekeeper's  room,  and  the  same  at  a  lower  price 


104  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL. 

in  the  servants'  hall ;  a  select  Olympian  feast  in  the  private 
apartment  of  the  cook,  who  was  a  much  grander  person  than 
her  ladyship,  and  wore  gold  and  jewellery  to  a  vast  amount  of 
suet ;  a  gambling  group  in  the  stables,  and  the  coachman, 
perhaps  the  most  innocent  member  of  the  establishment, 
tippling  in  majestic  solitude  by  a  fire  in  the  harness  room. 
For  Sir  Maximus,  as  every  one  said,  was  a  gentleman  of  the 
right  sort,  condescended  to  no  mean  inquiries,  greeted  his 
head-servants  with  a  "good  evening,  gentlemen,"  when  he 
met  them  in  the  Park,  and  only  snarled  in  a  subdued  way 
when  he  looked  over  the  accounts,  willing  to  endure  some 
personal  inconvenience  in  order  to  keep  up  the  institutions  of 
the  country,  to  maintain  his  hereditary  establishment,  and 
do  his  duty  in  that  station  of  life  —  the  station  of  the  long- 
tailed  saurian  —  to  which  it  had  pleased  Providence  to  call 
him. 

The  focus  of  brilliancy  at  Treby  Manor  that  evening  was  in 
no  way  the  dining-room,  where  Sir  Maximus  sipped  his  port 
under  some  mental  depression,  as  he  discussed  with  his 
brother,  the  Eeverend  Augustus,  the  sad  fact  that  one  of  the 
oldest  names  in  the  county  was  to  be  on  the  wrong  side  —  not 
in  the  drawing-room,  where  Miss  Debarry  and  Miss  Selina, 
quietly  elegant  in  their  dress  and  manners,  were  feeling 
rather  dull  than  otherwise,  having  finished  Mr.  Bulwer's 
"  Eugene  Aram,"  and  being  thrown  back  on  the  last  great  prose 
work  of  Mr.  Southey,  while  their  mamma  slumbered  a  little 
on  the  sofa.  No ;  the  centre  of  eager  talk  and  enjoyment  was 
the  steward's  room,  where  Mr.  Scales,  house-steward  and 
head-butler,  a  man  most  solicitous  about  his  boots,  wristbands, 
the  roll  of  his  whiskers,  and  other  attributes  of  a  gentleman, 
distributed  cigars,  cognac,  and  whiskey,  to  various  colleagues 
and  guests  who  were  discussing,  with  that  freedom  of  con- 
jecture which  is  one  of  our  inalienable  privileges  as  Britons, 
the  probable  amount  of  Harold  Transome's  fortune,  concerning 
which  fame  had  already  been  busy  long  enough  to  have 
acquired  vast  magnifying  power. 

The  chief  part  in  this  scene  was  undoubtedly  Mr.  Chris- 
tian's, although  he  had  hitherto  been  comparatively  silent ; 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  105 

but  he  occupied  two  chairs  with  so  much  grace,  throwing  his 
right  leg  over  the  seat  of  the  second,  and  resting  his  right 
hand  on  the  back  ;  he  held  his  cigar  and  displayed  a  splendid 
seal-ring  with  such  becoming  nonchalance,  and  had  his  gray 
hair  arranged  with  so  much  taste,  that  experienced  eyes  would 
at  once  have  seen  even  the  great  Scales  himself  to  be  but  a 
secondary  character. 

"Why,"  said  Mr.  Crowder,  an  old  respectable  tenant,  though 
much  in  arrear  as  to  his  rent,  who  condescended  frequently  to 
drink  in  the  steward's  room  for  the  sake  of  the  conversation  ; 
"  why,  I  suppose  they  get  money  so  fast  in  the  East  —  it 's 
wonderful.  Why,"  he  went  on,  with  a  hesitating  look  towards 
Mr.  Scales,  "  this  Transome  has  p'raps  got  a  matter  of  a  hun- 
dred thousand." 

"  A  hundred  thousand,  my  dear  sir  !  fiddlestick's  end  of  a 
hundred  thousand,"  said  Mr.  Scales,  with  a  contempt  very 
painful  to  be  borne  by  a  modest  man. 

"  Well,"  said  Mr.  Crowder,  giving  way  under  torture,  as  the 
all-knowing  butler  puffed  and  stared  at  him,  "  perhaps  not  so 
much  as  that." 

"  Not  so  much,  sir !  I  tell  you  that  a  hundred  thousand 
pounds  is  a  bagatelle." 

"  Well,  I  know  it 's  a  big  sum,"  said  Mr.  Crowder,  depre- 
catingly. 

Here  there  was  a  general  laugh.  All  the  other  intellects 
present  were  more  cultivated  than  Mr.  Crowder's. 

"  Bagatelle  is  the  French  for  trifle,  my  friend,"  said  Mr. 
Christian.  "  Don't  talk  over  people's  heads  so,  Scales.  I 
shall  have  hard  work  to  understand  you  myself  soon." 

"Come,  that's  a  good  one,"  said  the  head-gardener,  who 
was  a  ready  admirer  ;  "  I  should  like  to  hear  the  thing  you 
don't  understand,  Christian." 

"  He 's  a  first-rate  hand  at  sneering,"  said  Mr.  Scales,  rather 
nettled. 

"  Don't  be  waspish,  man.  I  '11  ring  the  bell  for  lemons,  and 
make  some  punch.  That's  the  thing  for  putting  people  up 
to  the  unknown  tongues,"  said  Mr.  Christian,  starting  up,  and 
slapping  Scales's  shoulder  as  he  passed  him. 


106  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

"What  I  mean,  Mr.  Crowder,  is  this."  Here  Mr.  Scales 
paused  to  puff,  and  pull  down  his  waistcoat  in  a  gentlemanly 
manner,  and  drink.  He  was  wont  in  this  way  to  give  his 
hearers  time  for  meditation. 

"Come,  then,  speak  English;  I'm  not  against  being  taught," 
said  the  reasonable  Crowder. 

"What  I  mean  is,  that  in  a  large  way  of  trade  a  man 
turns  his  capital  over  almost  as  soon  as  he  can  turn  himself. 
Bless  your  soul !  I  know  something  about  these  matters,  eh, 
Brent  ?  " 

"  To  be  sure  you  do  —  few  men  more,"  said  the  gardener, 
who  was  the  person  appealed  to. 

"Not  that  I've  had  anything  to  t?o  with  commercial  fami- 
lies myself.  I  've  those  feelings  that  I  look  to  other  things 
besides  lucre.  But  I  can't  say  that  I  've  not  been  intimate 
with  parties  who  have  been  less  nice  than  I  am  myself ;  and 
knowing  what  I  know,  I  should  n't  wonder  if  Transome  had  as 
much  as  five  hundred  thousand.  Bless  your  soul,  sir !  people 
who  get  their  money  out  of  land  are  as  long  scraping  five 
pounds  together  as  your  trading  men  are  in  turning  five 
pounds  into  a  hundred." 

"  That 's  a  wicked  thing,  though,"  said  Mr.  Crowder,  medita- 
tively. "  However,"  he  went  on,  retreating  from  this  difficult 
ground,  "trade  or  no  trade,  the  Transom es  have  been  poor 
enough  this  many  a  long  year.  I  've  a  brother  a  tenant  on 
their  estate  —  I  ought  to  know  a  little  bit  about  that." 

"  They  've  kept  up  no  establishment  at  all,"  said  Mr.  Scales, 
with  disgust.  "  They  've  even  let  their  kitchen  gardens.  I 
suppose  it  was  the  eldest  son's  gambling.  I  've  seen  something 
of  that.  A  man  who  has  always  lived  in  first-rate  families  is 
likely  to  know  a  thing  or  two  on  that  subject." 

"Ah,  but  it  wasn't  gambling  did  the  first  mischief,"  said 
Mr.  Crowder,  with  a  slight  smile,  feeling  that  it  was  his  turn 
to  have  some  superiority.  "  New-comers  don't  know  what 
happened  in  this  country  twenty  and  thirty  years  ago.  I  'm 
turned  fifty  myself,  and  my  father  lived  under  Sir  Maxum's 
father.  But  if  anybody  from  London  can  tell  me  more  than  I 
know  about  this  country-side,  I  'm  willing  to  listen." 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  107 

"  What  was  it,  then,  if  it  was  n't  gambling  ?  "  said  Mr. 
Scales,  with  some  impatience.  "  /  don't  pretend  to  know." 

"It  was  law  —  law  —  that's  what  it  was.  Not  but  what 
the  Transomes  always  won." 

"  And  always  lost,"  said  the  too-ready  Scales.  "  Yes,  yes ;  I 
think  we  all  know  the  nature  of  law." 

"  There  was  the  last  suit  of  all  made  the  most  noise,  as  I 
understood,"  continued  Mr.  Crowder ;  "but  it  wasn't  tried 
hereabout.  They  said  there  was  a  deal  o'  false  swearing. 
Some  young  man  pretended  to  be  the  true  heir  —  let  me  see  — 
I  can't  justly  remember  the  names  —  he'd  got  two.  He  swore 
he  was  one  man,  and  they  swore  he  was  another.  However, 
Lawyer  Jermyn  won  it  —  they  say  he  'd  win  a  game  against 
the  Old  One  himself  —  and  the  young  fellow  turned  out  to 
be  a  scamp.  Stop  a  bit  —  his  name  was  Scaddon  —  Henry 
Scaddon." 

Mr.  Christian  here  let  a  lemon  slip  from  his  hand  into  the 
punch-bowl  with  a  plash  which  sent  some  of  the  nectar  into 
the  company's  faces. 

"  Hallo  !  What  a  bungler  I  am ! "  he  said,  looking  as  if 
he  were  quite  jarred  by  this  unusual  awkwardness  of  his. 
"  Go  on  with  your  tale,  Mr.  Crowder  —  a  scamp  named  Henry 
Scaddon." 

"  Well,  that 's  the  tale,"  said  Mr.  Crowder.  "  He  was  never 
seen  nothing  of  any  more.  It  was  a  deal  talked  of  at  the  time 
—  and  I  've  sat  by ;  and  my  father  used  to  shake  his  head ; 
and  always  when  this  Mrs.  Transome  was  talked  of,  he  used  to 
shake  his  head,  and  say  she  carried  things  with  a  high  hand  once. 
But,  Lord  !  it  was  before  the  battle  of  Waterloo,  and  I  'm  a  poor 
hand  at  tales;  I  don't  see  much  good  in  'em  myself  —  but  if 
anybody  '11  tell  me  a  cure  for  the  sheep-rot  I  '11  thank  him." 

Here  Mr.  Crowder  relapsed  into  smoking  and  silence,  a  little 
discomfited  that  the  knowledge  of  which  he  had  been  delivered, 
had  turned  out  rather  a  shapeless  and  insignificant  birth. 

"  Well,  well,  bygones  should  be  bygones ;  there  are  secrets 
in  most  good  families,"  said  Mr.  Scales,  winking,  "and  this 
young  Transome,  coming  back  with  a  fortune  to  keep  up  the 
establishment,  and  have  things  done  in  a  decent  and  gentle- 


108  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL. 

manly  way  —  it  would  all  have  been  right  if  he  'd  not  been 
this  sort  of  Radical  madman.  But  now  he 's  done  for  himself. 
I  heard  Sir  Maximus  say  at  dinner  that  he  would  be  excom- 
municated ;  and  that 's  a  pretty  strong  word,  I  take  it." 

"  What  does  it  mean,  Scales  ?  "  said  Mr.  Christian,  who 
loved  tormenting. 

"  Ay,  what 's  the  meaning  ?  "  insisted  Mr.  Crowder,  encour- 
aged by  finding  that  even  Christian  was  in  the  dark. 

"Well,  it's  a  law  term  —  speaking  in  a  figurative  sort  of 
way  —  meaning  that  a  Radical  was  no  gentleman." 

"  Perhaps  it 's  partly  accounted  for  by  his  getting  his  money 
so  fast,  and  in  foreign  countries,"  said  Mr.  Crowder,  tenta- 
tively. "  It 's  reasonable  to  think  he  'd  be  against  the  land 
and  this  country  —  eh,  Sircoine  ?  " 

Sircome  was  an  eminent  miller  who  had  considerable  busi- 
ness transactions  at  the  Manor,  and  appreciated  Mr.  Scales's 
merits  at  a  handsome  percentage  on  the  yearly  account.  He 
was  a  highly  honorable  tradesman,  but  in  this  and  in  other 
matters  submitted  to  the  institutions  of  his  country ;  for  great 
houses,  as  he  observed,  must  have  great  butlers.  He  replied 
to  his  friend  Crowder  sententiously. 

"  I  say  nothing.  Before  I  bring  words  to  market,  I  should 
like  to  see  'em  a  bit  scarcer.  There  's  the  land  and  there  's 
trade  —  I  hold  with  both.  I  swim  with  the  stream." 

"  Hey-day,  Mr.  Sircome  !  that 's  a  Radical  maxim,"  said  Mr. 
Christian,  who  knew  that  Mr.  Sircome's  last  sentence  was  his 
favorite  formula.  "  I  advise  you  to  give  it  up,  else  it  will 
injure  the  quality  of  your  flour." 

"  A  Radical  maxim  !  "  said  Mr.  Sircome,  in  a  tone  of  angry 
astonishment.  "  I  should  like  to  hear  you  prove  that.  It 's 
as  old  as  my  grandfather,  anyhow." 

"  I  '11  prove  it  in  one  minute,"  said  the  glib  Christian. 
"Reform  has  set  in  by  the  will  of  the  majority — that's  the 
rabble,  you  know;  and  the  respectability  and  good  sense  of 
the  country,  which  are  in  the  minority,  are  afraid  of  Reform 
running  on  too  fast.  So  the  stream  must  be  running  towards 
Reform  and  Radicalism ;  and  if  you  swim  with  it,  Mr.  Sircome, 
you  're  a  Reformer  and  a  Radical,  and  your  flour  is  objection- 


FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL.  109 

able,  and  not  full  weight  —  and  being  tried  by  Scales,  will  be 
found  wanting." 

There  was  a  roar  of  laughter.  This  pun  upon  Scales  was 
highly  appreciated  by  every  one  except  the  miller  and  the 
butler.  The  latter  pulled  down  his  waistcoat,  and  puffed  and 
stared  in  rather  an  excited  manner.  Mr.  Christian's  wit,  in 
general,  seemed  to  him  a  poor  kind  of  quibbling. 

"  What  a  fellow  you  are  for  fence,  Christian,"  said  the  gar- 
dener. "  Hang  me,  if  I  don't  think  you  're  up  to  everything." 

"  That 's  a  compliment  you  might  pay  Old  Nick,  if  you 
come  to  that,"  said  Mr.  Sircome,  who  was  in  the  painful  posi- 
tion of  a  man  deprived  of  his  formula. 

"  Yes,  yes,"  said  Mr.  Scales ;  "  I  'm  no  fool  myself,  and  could 
parry  a  thrust  if  I  liked,  but  I  should  n't  like  it  to  be  said  of 
me  that  I  was  up  to  everything.  I  '11  keep  a  little  principle  if 
you  please." 

"  To  be  sure,"  said  Christian,  ladling  out  the  punch.  "  What 
would  justice  be  without  Scales  ?  " 

The  laughter  was  not  quite  so  full-throated  as  before.  Such 
excessive  cleverness  was  a  little  Satanic. 

"A  joke 's  a  joke  among  gentlemen,"  said  the  butler,  getting 
exasperated ;  "  I  think  there  has  been  quite  liberties  enough 
taken  with  my  name.  But  if  you  must  talk  about  names,  I  've 
heard  of  a  party  before  now  calling  himself  a  Christian,  and 
being  anything  but  it." 

"  Come,  that 's  beyond  a  joke,"  said  the  surgeon's  assistant, 
a  fast  man,  whose  chief  scene  of  dissipation  was  the  Manor. 
"  Let  it  drop,  Scales." 

"Yes,  I  dare  say  it's  beyond  a  joke.  I'm  not  a  harlequin 
to  talk  nothing  but  jokes.  I  leave  that  to  other  Christians, 
who  are  up  to  everything,  and  have  been  everywhere — to  the 
hulks,  for  what  I  know ;  and  more  than  that,  they  come  from 
nobody  knows  where,  and  try  to  worm  themselves  into  gentle- 
men's confidence,  to  the  prejudice  of  their  betters." 

There  was  a  stricter  sequence  in  Mr.  Scales's  angry  eloquence 
than  was  apparent  —  some  chief  links  being  confined  to  his 
own  breast,  as  is  often  the  case  in  energetic  discourse.  The 
company  were  in  a  state  of  expectation.  There  was  something 


110  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL. 

behind  worth  knowing,  and  something  before  them  worth  see- 
ing. In  the  general  decay  of  other  fine  British  pugnacious 
sports,  a  quarrel  between  gentlemen  was  all  the  more  exciting, 
and  though  no  one  would  himself  have  liked  to  turn  on  Scales, 
no  one  was  sorry  for  the  chance  of  seeing  him  put  down.  But 
the  amazing  Christian  was  unmoved.  He  had  taken  out  his 
handkerchief  and  was  rubbing  his  lips  carefully.  After  a 
slight  pause,  he  spoke  with  perfect  coolness. 

"  I  don't  intend  to  quarrel  with  you,  Scales.  Such  talk  as 
this  is  not  profitable  to  either  of  us.  It  makes  you  purple  in 
the  face  —  you  are  apoplectic,  you  know  —  and  it  spoils  good 
company.  Better  tell  a  few  fibs  about  me  behind  my  back  — 
it  will  heat  you  less,  and  do  me  mors  harm.  I  '11  leave  you  to 
it ;  I  shall  go  and  have  a  game  at  whist  with  the  ladies." 

As  the  door  closed  behind  the  questionable  Christian,  Mr. 
Scales  was  in  a  state  of  frustration  that  prevented  speech. 
Every  one  was  rather  embarrassed. 

"  That 's  a  most  uncommon  sort  o'  fellow,"  said  Mr.  Crowder, 
in  an  undertone,  to  his  next  neighbor,  the  gardener.  "  Why, 
Mr.  Philip  picked  him  up  in  foreign  parts,  did  n't  he  ?  " 

"  He  was  a  courier,"  said  the  gardener.  "  He 's  had  a  deal 
of  experience.  And  I  believe,  by  what  I  can  make  out  —  for 
he  's  been  pretty  free  with  me  sometimes  —  there  was  a  time 
when  he  was  in  that  rank  of  life  that  he  fought  a  duel." 

"  Ah !  that  makes  him  such  a  cool  chap,"  said  Mr.  Crowder. 

"  He 's  what  I  call  an  overbearing  fellow,"  said  Mr.  Sircome, 
also  sotto  voce,  to  his  next  neighbor,  Mr.  Filmore,  the  surgeon's 
assistant.  "  He  runs  you  down  with  a  sort  of  talk  that 's 
neither  here  nor  there.  He 's  got  a  deal  too  many  samples  in 
his  pocket  for  me." 

"  All  I  know  is,  he  's  a  wonderful  hand  at  cards,"  said  Mr. 
Filmore,  whose  whiskers  and  shirt-pin  were  quite  above  the 
average.  "  I  wish  I  could  play  ecarte  as  he  does  ;  it 's  beauti- 
ful to  see  him ;  he  can  make  a  man  look  pretty  blue  —  he  '11 
empty  his  pocket  for  him  in  no  time." 

"  That 's  none  to  his  credit,"  said  Mr.  Sircome. 

The  conversation  had  in  this  way  broken  up  into  tete-a-tete, 
and  the  hilarity  of  the  evening  might  be  considered  a  failure. 


FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL.  Ill 

Still  the  punch  was  drunk,  the  accounts  were  duly  swelled, 
and,  notwithstanding  the  innovating  spirit  of  the  time,  Sir 
Maximus  Debarry's  establishment  was  kept  up  in  a  sound 
hereditary  British  manner. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

Rumor  doth  double  like  the  voice  and  echo. 

SHAKESPEARE. 

The  mind  of  a  man  is  as  a  country  which  was  once  open  to  squatters,  who 
have  bred  and  multiplied  and  become  masters  of  the  land.  But  then  happen- 
eth  a  time  when  new  and  hungry  comers  dispute  the  land ;  and  there  ia 
trial  of  strength,  and  the  stronger  wins.  Nevertheless  the  first  squatters  be 
they  who  have  prepared  the  ground,  and  the  crops  to  the  end  will  be  sequent 
(though  chiefly  on  the  nature  of  the  soil,  as  of  light  sand,  mixed  loam,  or 
heavy  clay,  yet)  somewhat  on  the  primal  labor  and  sowing. 

THAT  talkative  maiden,  Rumor,  though  in  the  interest  of  art 
she  is  figured  as  a  youthful  winged  beauty  with  flowing  gar- 
ments, soaring  above  the  heads  of  men,  and  breathing  world- 
thrilling  news  through  a  gracefully  curved  trumpet,  is  in  fact 
a  very  old  maid,  who  puckers  her  silly  face  by  the  fireside, 
and  really  does  no  more  than  chirp  a  wrong  guess  or  a  lame 
story  into  the  ear  of  a  fellow-gossip  ;  all  the  rest  of  the  work 
attributed  to  her  is  done  by  the  ordinary  working  of  those 
passions  against  which  men  pray  in  the  Litany,  with  the  help 
of  a  plentiful  stupidity  against  which  we  have  never  yet  had 
any  authorized  form  of  prayer. 

When  Mr.  Scales's  strong  need  to  make  an  impressive  figure 
in  conversation,  together  with  his  very  slight  need  of  any 
other  premise  than  his  own  sense  of  his  wide  general  knowl- 
edge and  probable  infallibility,  led  him  to  specify  five  hun- 
dred thousand  as  the  lowest  admissible  amount  of  Harold 
Transome's  commercially  acquired  fortune,  it  was  not  fair  to 
put  this  down  to  poor  old  Miss  Rumor,  who  had  only  told 
Scales  that  the  fortune  was  considerable.  And  again,  when 


112  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

the  curt  Mr.  Sircome  found  occasion  at  Treby  to  mention  the 
five  hundred  thousand  as  a  fact  that  folks  seemed  pretty  sure 
about,  this  expansion  of  the  butler  into  "  folks  "  was  entirely 
due  to  Mr.  Sircome's  habitual  preference  for  words  which 
could  not  be  laid  hold  of  or  give  people  a  handle  over  him. 
It  was  in  this  simple  way  that  the  report  of  Harold  Transome's 
fortune  spread  and  was  magnified,  adding  much  lustre  to  his 
opinions  in  the  eyes  of  Liberals,  and  compelling  even  men  of 
the  opposite  party  to  admit  that  it  increased  his  eligibility  as 
a  member  for  [North  Loamshire.  It  was  observed  by  a  sound 
thinker  in  these  parts  that  property  was  ballast ;  and  when 
once  the  aptness  of  that  metaphor  had  been  perceived,  it  fol- 
lowed that  a  man  was  not  fit  to  navigate  the  sea  of  politics 
without  a  great  deal  of  such  ballast ;  and  that,  rightly  under- 
stood, whatever  increased  the  expense  of  election,  inasmuch  as 
it  virtually  raised  the  property  qualification,  was  an  unspeak- 
able boon  to  the  country. 

Meanwhile  the  fortune  that  was  getting  larger  in  the  imagina- 
tion of  constituents  was  shrinking  a  little  in  the  imagination 
of  its  owner.  It  was  hardly  more  than  a  hundred  and  fifty 
thousand ;  and  there  were  not  only  the  heavy  mortgages  to  be 
paid  off,  but  also  a  large  amount  of  capital  was  needed  in  order 
to  repair  the  farm-buildings  all  over  the  estate,  to  carry  out 
extensive  draining,  and  make  allowances  to  incoming  tenants, 
which  might  remove  the  difficulty  of  newly  letting  the  farms  in 
a  time  of  agricultural  depression.  The  farms  actually  ten- 
anted were  held  by  men  who  had  begged  hard  to  succeed  their 
fathers  in  getting  a  little  poorer  every  year,  on  land  which 
was  also  getting  poorer,  where  the  highest  rate  of  increase 
was  in  the  arrears  of  rent,  and  where  the  master,  in  crushed 
hat  and  corduroys,  looked  pitiably  lean  and  care-worn  by  the 
side  of  pauper  laborers,  who  showed  that  superior  assimilating 
power  often  observed  to  attend  nourishment  by  the  public 
money.  Mr.  Goffe,  of  Rabbit's  End,  had  never  had  it  ex- 
plained to  him  that,  according  to  the  true  theory  of  rent,  land 
must  inevitably  be  given  up  when  it  would  not  yield  a  profit 
equal  to  the  ordinary  rate  of  interest ;  so  that  from  want  of 
knowing  what  was  inevitable,  and  not  from  a  Titanic  spirit  of 


FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL.  113 

opposition,  he  kept  on  his  land.  He  often  said  of  himself, 
with  a  melancholy  wipe  of  his  sleeve  across  his  brow,  that  he 
"  did  n't  know  which-a-way  to  turn ;  "  and  he  would  have  been 
still  more  at  a  loss  on  the  subject  if  he  had  quitted  Rabbit's  End 
with  a  wagonful  of  furniture  and  utensils,  a  file  of  receipts,  a 
wife  with  five  children,  and  a  shepherd-dog  in  low  spirits. 

It  took  no  long  time  for  Harold  Transome  to  discover  this 
state  of  things,  and  to  see,  moreover,  that,  except  on  the 
demesne  immediately  around  the  house,  the  timber  had  been 
mismanaged.  The  woods  had  been  recklessly  thinned,  and 
there  had  been  insufficient  planting.  He  had  not  yet  thor- 
oughly investigated  the  various  accounts  kept  by  his  mother, 
by  Jermyn,  and  by  Banks  the  bailiff :  but  what  had  been  done 
with  the  large  sums  which  had  been  received  for  timber  was  a 
suspicious  mystery  to  him.  He  observed  that  the  farm  held 
by  Jermyn  was  in  first-rate  order,  that  a  good  deal  had  been 
spent  on  the  buildings,  and  that  the  rent  had  stood  unpaid. 
Mrs.  Transome  had  taken  an  opportunity  of  saying  that  Jermyn 
had  had  some  of  the  mortgage-deeds  transferred  to  him,  and 
that  his  rent  was  set  against  so  much  interest.  Harold  had 
only  said,  in  his  careless  yet  decisive  way,  "  Oh,  Jermyn  be 
hanged !  It  seems  to  me  if  Durfey  had  n't  died  and  made 
room  for  me,  Jermyn  would  have  ended  by  coming  to  live  here, 
and  you  would  have  had  to  keep  the  lodge  and  open  the  gate  for 
his  carriage.  But  I  shall  pay  him  off  —  mortgages  and  all  — 
by-and-by.  I'll  owe  him  nothing  —  not  even  a  curse."  Mrs. 
Transome  said  no  more.  Harold  did  not  care  to  enter  fully 
into  the  subject  with  his  mother.  The  fact  that  she  had  been 
active  in  the  management  of  the  estate  —  had  ridden  about  it 
continually,  had  busied  herself  with  accounts,  had  been  head- 
bailiff  of  the  vacant  farms,  and  had  yet  allowed  things  to  go 
wrong — was  set  down  by  him  simply  to  the  general  futility 
of  women's  attempts  to  transact  men's  business.  He  did  not 
want  to  say  anything  to  annoy  her :  he  was  only  determined 
to  let  her  understand,  as  quietly  as  possible,  that  she  had 
better  cease  all  interference. 

Mrs.  Transome  did  \mderstand  this  ;  and  it  was  very  little 
that  she  dared  to  say  on  business,  though  there  was  a  fierce 
VOL.  in.  8 


114  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL. 

struggle  of  her  anger  and  pride  with  a  dread  which  was  never- 
theless supreme.  As  to  the  old  tenants,  she  only  observed, 
on  hearing  Harold  burst  forth  about  their  wretched  condition, 
"  that  with  the  estate  so  burthened,  the  yearly  loss  by  arrears 
could  better  be  borne  than  the  outlay  and  sacrifice  necessary 
in  order  to  let  the  farms  anew." 

"I  was  really  capable  of  calculating,  Harold,"  she  ended, 
with  a  touch  of  bitterness.  "  It  seems  easy  to  deal  with  farm- 
ers and  their  affairs  when  you  only  see  them  in  print,  I  dare 
say ;  but  it 's  not  quite  so  easy  when  you  live  among  them. 
You  have  only  to  look  at  Sir  Maximus's  estate  :  you  will  see 
plenty  of  the  same  thing.  The  times  have  been  dreadful,  and 
old  families  like  to  keep  their  old  tenants.  But  I  dare  say 
that  is  Toryism." 

"  It 's  a  hash  of  odds  and  ends,  if  that  is  Toryism,  my  dear 
mother.  However,  I  wish  you  had  kept  three  more  old  ten- 
ants ;  for  then  I  should  have  had  three  more  fifty-pound 
voters.  And,  in  a  hard  run,  one  may  be  beaten  by  a  head. 
But,"  Harold  added,  smiling  and  handing  her  a  ball  of  worsted 
which  had  fallen,  "  a  woman  ought  to  be  a  Tory,  and  graceful, 
and  handsome,  like  you.  I  should  hate  a  woman  who  took  up 
my  opinions,  and  talked  for  me.  I  'm  an  Oriental,  you  know. 
I  say,  mother,  shall  we  have  this  room  furnished  with  rose- 
color  ?  I  notice  that  it  suits  your  bright  gray  hair." 

Harold  thought  it  was  only  natural  that  his  mother  should 
have  been  in  a  sort  of  subjection  to  Jermyn  throughout  the 
awkward  circumstances  of  the  family.  It  was  the  way  of 
women,  and  all  weak  minds,  to  think  that  what  they  had  been 
used  to  was  inalterable,  and  any  quarrel  with  a  man  who  man- 
aged private  affairs  was  necessarily  a  formidable  thing.  He 
himself  was  proceeding  very  cautiously,  and  preferred  not  even 
to  know  too  much  just  at  present,  lest  a  certain  personal  antip- 
athy he  was  conscious  of  towards  Jermyn,  and  an  occasional  lia- 
bility to  exasperation,  should  get  the  better  of  a  calm  and  clear- 
sighted resolve  not  to  qiiarrel  with  the  man  while  he  could  be 
of  use.  Harold  would  have  been  disgusted  with  himself  if  he 
had  helped  to  frustrate  his  own  purpose.  And  his  strongest 
purpose  now  was  to  get  returned  for  Parliament,  to  make  a 


FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL.  115 

figure  there  as  a  Liberal  member,  and  to  become  on  all  grounds 
a  personage  of  weight  in  North  Loamshire. 

How  Harold  Transome  came  to  be  a  Liberal  in  opposition  to 
all  the  traditions  of  his  family,  was  a  more  subtle  inquiry  than 
he  had  ever  cared  to  follow  out.  The  newspapers  undertook  to 
explain  it.  The  "  North  Loamshire  Herald  "  witnessed  with  a 
grief  and  disgust  certain  to  be  shared  by  all  persons  who  were 
actuated  by  wholesome  British  feeling,  an  example  of  defec- 
tion in  the  inheritor  of  a  family  name  which  in  times  past 
had  been  associated  with  attachment  to  right  principle,  and 
with  the  maintenance  of  our  constitution  in  Church  and  State  ; 
and  pointed  to  it  as  an  additional  proof  that  men  who  had 
passed  any  large  portion  of  their  lives  beyond  the  limits  of 
our  favored  country,  usually  contracted  not  only  a  laxity  of 
feeling  towards  Protestantism,  nay,  towards  religion  itself  —  a 
latitudinarian  spirit  hardly  distinguishable  from  atheism  —  but 
also  a  levity  of  disposition,  inducing  them  to  tamper  with 
those  institutions  by  which  alone  Great  Britain  had  risen  to 
her  pre-eminence  among  the  nations.  Such  men,  infected  with 
outlandish  habits,  intoxicated  with  vanity,  grasping  at  momen- 
tary power  by  flattery  of  the  multitude,  fearless  because  god- 
less, liberal  because  un-English,  were  ready  to  pull  one  stone 
from  under  another  in  the  national  edifice,  till  the  great  struc- 
ture tottered  to  its  fall.  On  the  other  hand,  the  "Duffield 
Watchman  "  saw  in  this  signal  instance  of  self-liberation  from 
the  trammels  of  prejudice,  a  decisive  guarantee  of  intellectual 
pre-eminence,  united  with  a  generous  sensibility  to  the  claims 
of  man  as  man,  which  had  burst  asunder,  and  cast  off,  by  a 
spontaneous  exertion  of  energy,  the  cramping  out-worn  shell 
of  hereditary  bias  and  class  interest. 

But  these  large-minded  guides  of  public  opinion  argued 
from  wider  data  than  could  be  furnished  by  any  knowledge  of 
the  particular  case  concerned.  Harold  Transome  was  neither 
the  dissolute  cosmopolitan  so  vigorously  sketched  by  the  Tory 
"  Herald,"  nor  the  intellectual  giant  and  moral  lobster  sug- 
gested by  the  liberal  imagination  of  the  "  Watchman."  Twenty 
years  ago  he  had  been  a  bright,  active,  good-tempered  lad,  with 
sharp  eyes  and  a  good  aim ;  he  delighted  in  success  and  in 


116  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL. 

predominance  ;  but  he  did  not  long  for  an  impossible  predomi- 
nance, and  become  sour  and  sulky  because  it  was  impossible. 
He  played  at  the  games  he  was  clever  in,  and  usually  won  ;  all 
other  games  he  let  alone,  and  thought  them  of  little  worth. 
At  home  and  at  Eton  he  had  been  side  by  side  with  his  stupid 
elder  brother  Durfey,  whom  he  despised ;  and  he  very  early 
began  to  reflect  that  since  this  Caliban  in  miniature  was  older 
than  himself,  he  must  carve  out  his  own  fortune.  That  was 
a  nuisance  ;  and  on  the  whole  the  world  seemed  rather  ill- 
arranged,  at  Eton  especially,  where  there  were  many  reasons 
why  Harold  made  no  great  figure.  He  was  not  sorry  the 
money  was  wanting  to  send  him  to  Oxford ;  he  did  not  see  the 
good  of  Oxford  :  he  had  been  surrounded  by  many  things  dur- 
ing his  short  life,  of  which  he  had  distinctly  said  to  himself 
that  he  did  not  see  the  good,  and  he  was  not  disposed  to  vene- 
rate on  the  strength  of  any  good  that  others  saw.  He  turned 
his  back  on  home  very  cheerfully,  though  he  was  rather  fond 
of  his  mother,  and  very  fond  of  Transome  Court,  and  the  river 
where  he  had  been  used  to  fish ;  but  he  said  to  himself  as  he 
passed  the  lodge-gates,  "  I  '11  get  rich  somehow,  and  have  an 
estate  of  my  own,  and  do  what  I  like  with  it."  This  deter- 
mined aiming  at  something  not  easy  but  clearly  possible, 
marked  the  direction  in  which  Harold's  nature  was  strong ; 
he  had  the  energetic  will  and  muscle,  the  self-confidence,  the 
quick  perception,  and  the  narrow  imagination  which  make 
what  is  admiringly  called  the  practical  mind. 

Since  then  his  character  had  been  ripened  by  a  various  expe- 
rience, and  also  by  much  knowledge  which  he  had  set  himself 
deliberately  to  gain.  But  the  man  was  no  more  than  the  boy 
writ  large,  with  an  extensive  commentary.  The  years  had 
nourished  an  inclination  to  as  much  opposition  as  would  en- 
able him  to  assert  his  own  independence  and  power  without 
throwing  himself  into  that  tabooed  condition  which  robs  power 
of  its  triumph.  And  this  inclination  had  helped  his  shrewd- 
ness in  forming  judgments  which  were  at  once  innovating 
and  moderate.  He  was  addicted  at  once  to  rebellion  and  to 
conformity,  and  only  an  intimate  personal  knowledge  could 
enable  any  one  to  predict  where  his  conformity  would  begin. 


FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL.  117 

The  limit  was  not  defined  by  theory,  but  was  drawn  in  an  irregu- 
lar zigzag  by  early  disposition  and  association ;  and  his  resolu- 
tion, of  which  he  had  never  lost  hold,  to  be  a  thorough  Eng- 
lishman again  some  day,  had  kept  up  the  habit  of  considering 
all  his  conclusions  with  reference  to  English  politics  and  Eng- 
lish social  conditions.  He  meant  to  stand  up  for  every  change 
that  the  economical  condition  of  the  country  required,  and  he 
had  an  angry  contempt  for  men  with  coronets  on  their  coaches, 
but  too  small  a  share  of  brains  to  see  when  they  had  better 
make  a  virtue  of  necessity.  His  respect  was  rather  for  men 
who  had  no  coronets,  but  who  achieved  a  just  influence  by  fur- 
thering all  measures  which  the  common-sense  of  the  country, 
and  the  increasing  self-assertion  of  the  majority,  peremp- 
torily demanded.  He  could  be  such  a  man  himself. 

In  fact  Harold  Transome  was  a  clever,  frank,  good-natured 
egoist;  not  stringently  consistent,  but  without  any  disposi- 
tion to  falsity ;  proud,  but  with  a  pride  that  was  moulded  in 
an  individual  rather  than  an  hereditary  form ;  unspeculative, 
unsentimental,  unsympathetic ;  fond  of  sensual  pleasures, 
but  disinclined  to  all  vice,  and  attached  as  a  healthy,  clear- 
sighted person,  to  all  conventional  morality,  construed  with 
a  certain  freedom,  like  doctrinal  articles  to  which  the  pub- 
lic order  may  require  subscription.  A  character  is  apt  to 
look  but  indifferently,  written  out  in  this  way.  Keduced  to  a 
map,  our  premises  seem  insignificant,  but  they  make,  neverthe- 
less, a  very  pretty  freehold  to  live  in  and  walk  over  ;  and  so, 
if  Harold  Transome  had  been  among  your  acquaintances,  and 
you  had  observed  his  qualities  through  the  medium  of  his 
agreeable  person,  bright  smile,  and  a  certain  easy  charm  which 
accompanies  sensuousness  when  unsullied  by  coarseness  — 
through  the  medium  also  of  the  many  opportunities  in  which 
he  would  have  made  himself  useful  or  pleasant  to  you  —  you 
would  have  thought  him  a  good  fellow,  highly  acceptable  as  a 
guest,  a  colleague,  or  a  brother-in-law.  Whether  all  mothers 
would  have  liked  him  as  a  son,  is  another  question. 

It  is  a  fact  perhaps  kept  a  little  too  much  in  the  background, 
that  mothers  have  a  self  larger  than  their  maternity,  and  that 
when  their  sons  have  become  taller  than  themselves,  and  are 


118  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL. 

gone  from  them  to  college  or  into  the  world,  there  are  wide 
spaces  of  their  time  which  are  not  filled  with  praying  for  their 
boys,  reading  old  letters,  and  envying  yet  blessing  those  who 
are  attending  to  their  shirt-buttons.  Mrs.  Transome  was  cer- 
tainly not  one  of  those  bland,  adoring,  and  gently  tearful  wo- 
men. After  sharing  the  common  dream  that  when  a  beautiful 
man-child  was  born  to  her,  her  cup  of  happiness  would  be  full, 
she  had  travelled  through  long  years  apart  from  that  child  to 
find  herself  at  last  in  the  presence  of  a  son  of  whom  she  was 
afraid,  who  was  utterly  unmanageable  by  her,  and  to  whose 
sentiments  in  any  given  case  she  possessed  no  key.  Yet  Harold 
was  a  kind  son  :  he  kissed  his  mother's  brow,  offered  her  his 
arm,  let  her  choose  what  she  liked  for  the  house  and  garden, 
asked  her  whether  she  would  have  bays  or  grays  for  her  new  car- 
riage, and  was  bent  on  seeing  her  make  as  good  a  figure  in  the 
neighborhood  as  any  other  woman  of  her  rank.  She  trembled 
under  this  kindness  :  it  was  not  enough  to  satisfy  her ;  still,  if 
it  should  ever  cease  and  give  place  to  something  else  —  she 
was  too  uncertain  about  Harold's  feelings  to  imagine  clearly 
what  that  something  would  be.  The  finest  threads,  such  as  no 
eye  sees,  if  bound  cunningly  about  the  sensitive  flesh,  so  that 
the  movement  to  break  them  would  bring  torture,  may  make  a 
worse  bondage  than  any  fetters.  Mrs.  Transome  felt  the  fatal 
threads  about  her,  and  the  bitterness  of  this  helpless  bondage 
mingled  itself  with  the  new  elegancies  of  the  dining  and  draw- 
ing rooms,  and  all  the  household  changes  which  Harold  had 
ordered  to  be  brought  about  with  magical  quickness.  Nothing 
was  as  she  had  once  expected  it  would  be.  If  Harold  had 
shown  the  least  care  to  have  her  stay  in  the  room  with  him  — 
if  he  had  really  cared  for  her  opinion  —  if  he  had  been  what 
she  had  dreamed  he  would  be  in  the  eyes  of  those  people  who 
had  made  her  world  —  if  all  the  past  could  be  dissolved,  and 
leave  no  solid  trace  of  itself  —  mighty  ifs  that  were  all  impos- 
sible —  she  would  have  tasted  some  joy  ;  but  now  she  began  to 
look  back  with  regret  to  the  days  when  she  sat  in  loneliness 
among  the  old  drapery,  and  still  longed  for  something  that 
might  happen.  Yet,  save  in  a  bitter  little  speech,  or  in  a  deep 
sigh  heard  by  no  one  besides  Denner,  she  kept  all  these  things 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  119 

hidden  in  her  heart,  and  went  out  in  the  autumn  sunshine  to 
overlook  the  alterations  in  the  pleasure-grounds  very  much  as 
a  happy  woman  might  have  done.  One  day,  however,  when 
she  was  occupied  in  this  way,  an  occasion  came  on  which  she 
chose  to  express  indirectly  a  part  of  her  inward  care. 

She  was  standing  on  the  broad  gravel  in  the  afternoon ;  the 
long  shadows  lay  on  the  grass ;  the  light  seemed  the  more 
glorious  because  of  the  reddened  and  golden  trees.  The  garden- 
ers were  busy  at  their  pleasant  work ;  the  newly  turned  soil 
gave  out  an  agreeable  fragrance ;  and  little  Harry  was  playing 
with  Nimrod  round  old  Mr.  Transome,  who  sat  placidly  on  a 
low  garden-chair.  The  scene  would  have  made  a  charming 
picture  of  English  domestic  life,  and  the  handsome,  majestic, 
gray-haired  woman  (obviously  grandmamma)  would  have  been 
especially  admired.  But  the  artist  would  have  felt  it  requisite 
to  turn  her  face  towards  her  husband  and  little  grandson,  and 
to  have  given  her  an  elderly  amiability  of  expression  which 
would  have  divided  remark  with  his  exquisite  rendering  of  her 
Indian  shawl.  Mrs.  Transome's  face  was  turned  the  other  way, 
and  for  this  reason  she  only  heard  an  approaching  step,  and 
did  not  see  whose  it  was  ;  yet  it  startled  her :  it  was  not  quick 
enough  to  be  her  son's  step,  and  besides,  Harold  was  away  at 
Duffield.  It  was  Mr.  Jermyn's. 


CHAPTEK  IX. 

A  woman,  naturally  born  to  fears.  — King  John. 

Methinks 

Some  unborn  sorrow,  ripe  in  fortune's  womb, 
Is  coming  towards  me ;  and  my  inward  soul 
With  nothing  trembles.  —  King  Richard  II. 

MATTHEW  JERMTN  approached  Mrs.  Transome  taking  off  his 
hat  and  smiling.     She  did  not  smile,  but  said  — 
"  You  knew  Harold  was  not  at  home  ?  " 


120  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL. 

"  Yes ;  I  came  to  see  you,  to  know  if  you  had  any  wishes 
that  I  could  further,  since  I  have  not  had  an  opportunity  of 
consulting  you  since  he  came  home." 

"  Let  us  walk  towards  the  Rookery,  then." 

They  turned  together,  Mr.  Jermyn  still  keeping  his  hat  off 
and  holding  it  behind  him ;  the  air  was  so  soft  and  agreeable 
that  Mrs.  Transome  herself  had  nothing  but  a  large  veil  over 
her  head. 

They  walked  for  a  little  while  in  silence  till  they  were  out 
of  sight,  under  tall  trees,  and  treading  noiselessly  on  falling 
leaves.  What  Jermyu  was  really  most  anxious  about,  was  to 
learn  from  Mrs.  Transome  whether  anything  had  transpired 
that  was  significant  of  Harold's  disposition  towards  him,  which 
he  suspected  to  be  very  far  from  friendly.  Jermyn  was  not 
naturally  flinty-hearted :  at  five-and-twenty  he  had  written 
verses,  and  had  got  himself  wet  through  in  order  not  to  dis- 
appoint a  dark-eyed  woman  whom  he  was  proud  to  believe 
in  love  with  him  ;  but  a  family  man  with  grown-up  sons  and 
daughters,  a  man  with  a  professional  position  and  complicated 
affairs  that  make  it  hard  to  ascertain  the  exact  relation  between 
property  and  liabilities,  necessarily  thinks  of  himself  and  what 
may  be  impending. 

"  Harold  is  remarkably  acute  and  clever,"  he  began  at  last, 
since  Mrs.  Transome  did  not  speak.  "  If  he  gets  into  Parlia- 
ment, I  have  no  doubt  he  will  distinguish  himself.  He  has  a 
quick  eye  for  business  of  all  kinds." 

"  That  is  no  comfort  to  me,"  said  Mrs.  Transome.  To-day 
she  was  more  conscious  than  usual  of  that  bitterness  which 
was  always  in  her  mind  in  Jerinyn's  presence,  but  which  was 
carefully  suppressed :  —  suppressed  because  she  could  not  en- 
dure that  the  degradation  she  inwardly  felt  should  ever  become 
visible  or  audible  in  acts  or  words  of  her  own  —  should  ever  be 
reflected  in  any  word  or  look  of  his.  For  years  there  had  been  a 
deep  silence  about  the  past  between  them :  on  her  side,  because 
she  remembered  ;  on  his,  because  he  more  and  more  forgot. 

"  I  trust  he  is  not  unkind  to  you  in  any  way.  I  know  his 
opinions  pain  you ;  but  I  trust  you  find  him  in  everything  else 
disposed  to  be  a  good  son." 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  121 

"  Oh,  to  be  sure  —  good  as  men  are  disposed  to  be  to  women, 
giving  them  cushions  and  carriages,  and  recommending  them 
to  enjoy  themselves,  and  then  expecting  them  to  be  contented 
under  contempt  and  neglect.  I  have  no  power  over  him  — 
remember  that  —  none." 

Jermyn  turned  to  look  in  Mrs.  Transome's  face :  it  was  long 
since  he  had  heard  her  speak  to  him  as  if  she  were  losing  her 
self-command. 

"  Has  he  shown  any  unpleasant  feeling  about  your  manage- 
ment of  the  affairs  ?  " 

"  My  management  of  the  affairs  !  "  Mrs.  Transome  said,  with 
concentrated  rage,  flashing  a  fierce  look  at  Jermyn.  She 
checked  herself :  she  felt  as  if  she  were  lighting  a  torch  to 
flare  on  her  own  past  folly  and  misery.  It  was  a  resolve 
which  had  become  a  habit,  that  she  would  never  quarrel  with 
this  man  —  never  tell  him  what  she  saw  him  to  be.  She  had 
kept  her  woman's  pride  and  sensibility  intact :  through  all  her 
life  there  had  vibrated  the  maiden  need  to  have  her  hand 
kissed  and  be  the  object  of  chivalry.  And  so  she  sank  into 
silence  again,  trembling. 

Jermyn  felt  annoyed  —  nothing  more.  There  was  nothing 
in  his  mind  corresponding  to  the  intricate  meshes  of  sensitive- 
ness in  Mrs.  Transome's.  He  was  anything  but  stupid ;  yet 
he  always  blundered  when  he  wanted  to  be  delicate  or  mag- 
nanimous ;  he  constantly  sought  to  soothe  others  by  praising 
himself.  Moral  vulgarity  cleaved  to  him  like  an  hereditary 
odor.  He  blundered  now. 

"  My  dear  Mrs.  Transome,"  he  said,  in  a  tone  of  bland  kind- 
ness, "  you  are  agitated  —  you  appear  angry  with  me.  Yet  I 
think,  if  you  consider,  you  will  see  that  you  have  nothing  to 
complain  of  in  me,  unless  you  will  complain  of  the  inevitable 
course  of  man's  life.  I  have  always  met  your  wishes  both  in 
happy  circumstances  and  in  unhappy  ones.  I  should  be  ready 
to  do  so  now,  if  it  were  possible." 

Every  sentence  was  as  pleasant  to  her  as  if  it  had  been  cut 
in  her  bared  arm.  Some  men's  kindness  and  love-making  are 
more  exasperating,  more  humiliating  than  others'  derision ; 
but  the  pitiable  woman  who  has  once  made  herself  secretly 


122  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

dependent  on  a  man  who  is  beneath  her  in  feeling,  must  bear 
that  humiliation  for  fear  of  worse.  Coarse  kindness  is  at  least 
better  than  coarse  anger ;  and  in  all  private  quarrels  the  duller 
nature  is  triumphant  by  reason  of  its  dulness.  Mrs.  Transome 
knew  in  her  inmost  soul  that  those  relations  which  had  sealed 
her  lips  on  Jermyn's  conduct  in  business  matters,  had  been 
with  him  a  ground  for  presuming  that  he  should  have  impu- 
nity in  any  lax  dealing  into  which  circumstances  had  led  him. 
She  knew  that  she  herself  had  endured  all  the  more  privation 
because  of  his  dishonest  selfishness.  And  now,  Harold's  long- 
deferred  heirship,  and  his  return  with  startlingly  unexpected 
penetration,  activity,  and  assertion  of  mastery,  had  placed 
them  both  in  the  full  presence  of  a  difficulty  which  had  been 
prepared  by  the  years  of  vague  uncertainty  as  to  issues.  In 
this  position,  with  a  great  dread  hanging  over  her,  which  Jer- 
myn  knew,  and  ought  to  have  felt  that  he  had  caused  her,  she 
was  inclined  to  lash  him  with  indignation,  to  scorch  him  with 
the  words  that  were  just  the  fit  names  for  his  doings  —  inclined 
all  the  more  when  he  spoke  with  an  insolent  blandness,  ignor- 
ing all  that  was  truly  in  her  heart.  But  no  sooner  did  the 
words  "  You  have  brought  it  on  me  "  rise  within  her  than  she 
heard  within  also  the  retort,  "You  brought  it  on  yourself." 
Not  for  all  the  world  beside  could  she  bear  to  hear  that  retort 
uttered  from  without.  What  did  she  do  ?  With  strange  se- 
quence to  all  that  rapid  tumult,  after  a  few  moments'  silence 
she  said,  in  a  gentle  and  almost  tremulous  voice  — 

"  Let  me  take  your  arm." 

He  gave  it  immediately,  putting  on  his  hat  and  wondering. 
For  more  than  twenty  years  Mrs.  Transome  had  never  chosen 
to  take  his  arm. 

"  I  have  but  one  thing  to  ask  you.     Make  me  a  promise." 

"  What  is  it  ?  " 

"  That  you  will  never  quarrel  with  Harold." 

"You  must  know  that  it  is  my  wish  not  to  quarrel  with 
him." 

"  But  make  a  vow  —  fix  it  in  your  mind  as  a  thing  not  to 
be  done.  Bear  anything  from  him  rather  than  quarrel  with 
him." 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  123 

"  A  man  can't  make  a  vow  not  to  quarrel,"  said  Jermyn,  who 
was  already  a  little  irritated  by  the  implication  that  Harold 
might  be  disposed  to  use  him  roughly.  "  A  man's  temper  may 
get  the  better  of  him  at  any  moment.  I  am  not  prepared  to 
bear  anything." 

"  Good  God ! "  said  Mrs.  Transome,  taking  her  hand  from 
his  arm,  "is  it  possible  you  don't  feel  how  horrible  it  would 
be?" 

As  she  took  away  her  hand,  Jermyn  let  his  arm  fall,  put 
both  his  hands  in  his  pockets,  and  shrugging  his  shoulders 
said,  "I  shall  use  him  as  he  uses  me." 

Jermyn  had  turned  round  his  savage  side,  and  the  blandness 
was  out  of  sight.  It  was  this  that  had  always  frightened  Mrs. 
Transome :  there  was  a  possibility  of  fierce  insolence  in  this 
man  who  was  to  pass  with  those  nearest  to  her  as  her  indebted 
servant,  but  whose  brand  she  secretly  bore.  She  was  as  power- 
less with  him  as  she  was  with  her  son. 

This  woman,  who  loved  rule,  dared  not  speak  another  word 
of  attempted  persuasion.  They  were  both  silent,  taking  the 
nearest  way  into  the  sunshine  again.  There  was  a  half-formed 
wish  in  both  their  minds  —  even  in  the  mother's  —  that  Harold 
Transome  had  never  been  born. 

"We  are  working  hard  for  the  election,"  said  Jermyn,  re- 
covering himself,  as  they  turned  into  the  sunshine  again.  "I 
think  we  shall  get  him  returned,  and  in  that  case  he  will  be  in 
high  good-humor.  Everything  will  be  more  propitious  than 
you  are  apt  to  think.  You  must  persuade  yourself,"  he  added, 
smiling  at  her,  "  that  it  is  better  for  a  man  of  his  position  to 
be  in  Parliament  on  the  wrong  side  than  not  to  be  in  at  all." 

"Never,"  said  Mrs.  Transome.  "I  am  too  old  to  learn  to 
call  bitter  sweet  and  sweet  bitter.  But  what  I  may  think  or 
feel  is  of  no  consequence  now.  I  am  as  unnecessary  as  a 
chimney  ornament." 

And  in  this  way  they  parted  on  the  gravel,  in  that  pretty 
scene  where  they  had  met.  Mrs.  Transome  shivered  as  she 
stood  alone  :  all  around  her,  where  there  had  once  been  bright- 
ness and  warmth,  there  were  white  ashes,  and  the  sunshine 
looked  dreary  as  it  fell  on  them. 


124  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  KADICAL. 

Mr.  Jermyn's  heaviest  reflections  in  riding  homeward  turned 
on  the  possibility  of  incidents  between  himself  and  Harold 
Transome  which  would  have  disagreeable  results,  requiring 
him  to  raise  money,  and  perhaps  causing  scandal,  which  in  its 
way  might  also  help  to  create  a  monetary  deficit.  A  man  of 
sixty,  with  a  wife  whose  Duffield  connections  were  of  the 
highest  respectability,  with  a  family  of  tall  daughters,  an  ex- 
pensive establishment,  and  a  large  professional  business,  owed 
a  great  deal  more  to  himself  as  the  mainstay  of  all  those  solidi- 
ties, than  to  feelings  and  ideas  which  were  quite  unsubstan- 
tial. There  were  many  unfortunate  coincidences  which  placed 
Mr.  Jerrnyn  in  an  uncomfortable  position  just  now ;  he  had 
not  been  much  to  blame,  he  considered  ;  if  it  had  not  been  for 
a  sudden  turn  of  affairs  no  one  would  have  complained.  He 
defied  any  man  to  say  that  he  had  intended  to  wrong  people ; 
he  was  able  to  refund,  to  make  reprisals,  if  they  could  be  fairly 
demanded.  Only  he  would  certainly  have  preferred  that  they 
should  not  be  demanded. 

A  German  poet  was  intrusted  with  a  particularly  fine  sau- 
sage, which  he  was  to  convey  to  the  donor's  friend  at  Paris. 
In  the  course  of  a  long  journey  he  smelt  the  sausage ;  he  got 
hungry,  and  desired  to  taste  it ;  he  pared  a  morsel  off,  then 
another,  and  another,  in  successive  moments  of  temptation, 
till  at  last  the  sausage  was,  humanly  speaking,  at  an  end.  The 
offence  had  not  been  premeditated.  The  poet  had  never  loved 
meanness,  but  he  loved  sausage ;  and  the  result  was  undeniably 
awkward. 

So  it  was  with  Matthew  Jermyn.  He  was  far  from  liking 
that  ugly  abstraction  rascality,  but  he  had  liked  other  things 
which  had  suggested  nibbling.  He  had  had  to  do  many  things 
in  law  and  in  daily  life  which,  in  the  abstract,  he  would  have 
condemned ;  and  indeed  he  had  never  been  tempted  by  them 
in  the  abstract.  Here,  in  fact,  was  the  inconvenience  ;  he  had 
sinned  for  the  sake  of  particular  concrete  things,  and  particu- 
lar concrete  consequences  were  likely  to  follow. 

But  he  was  a  man  of  resolution,  who,  having  made  out  what 
was  the  best  course  to  take  under  a  difficulty,  went  straight  to 
his  work.  The  election  must  be  won  :  that  would  put  Harold 


FELIX  HOLT,   THE  KADICAL.  125 

in  good-humor,  give  him  something  to  do,  and  leave  himself 
more  time  to  prepare  for  any  crisis. 

He  was  in  anything  but  low  spirits  that  evening.  It  was 
his  eldest  daughter's  birthday,  and  the  young  people  had  a 
dance.  Papa  was  delightful  —  stood  up  for  a  quadrille  and  a 
country-dance,  told  stories  at  supper,  and  made  humorous 
quotations  from  his  early  readings  :  if  these  were  Latin,  he 
apologized,  and  translated  to  the  ladies  ;  so  that  a  deaf  lady- 
visitor  from  Duffield  kept  her  trumpet  up  continually,  lest 
she  should  lose  any  of  Mr.  Jermyn's  conversation,  and  wished 
that  her  niece  Maria  had  been  present,  who  was  young  and 
had  a  good  memory. 

Still  the  party  was  smaller  than  usual,  for  some  families  in 
Treby  refused  to  visit  Jermyn,  now  that  he  was  concerned  for 
a  Radical  candidate. 


CHAPTER  X. 

He  made  love  neither  with  roses,  nor  with  apples,  nor  with  locks  of 
hair.  —  THEOCBITUB. 

ONE  Sunday  afternoon  Felix  Holt  rapped  at  the  door  of 
Mr.  Lyon's  house,  although  he  could  hear  the  voice  of  the 
minister  preaching  in  the  chapel.  He  stood  with  a  book  under 
his  arm,  apparently  confident  that  there  was  some  one  in  the 
house  to  open  the  door  for  him.  In  fact,  Esther  never  went 
to  chapel  in  the  afternoon :  that  "  exercise  "  made  her  head 
ache. 

In  these  September  weeks  Felix  had  got  rather  intimate 
with  Mr.  Lyon.  They  shared  the  same  political  S3^mpathies  ; 
and  though,  to  Liberals  who  had  neither  freehold  nor  copy- 
hold nor  leasehold,  the  share  in  a  county  election  consisted 
chiefly  of  that  prescriptive  amusement  of  the  majority  known 
as  "  looking  on,"  there  was  still  something  to  be  said  on  the 
occasion,  if  not  to  be  done.  Perhaps  the  most  delightful 


126  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL. 

friendships  are  those  in  which  there  is  much  agreement,  much 
disputation,  and  yet  more  personal  liking ;  and  the  advent  of 
the  public-spirited,  contradictory,  yet  affectionate  Felix,  into 
Treby  life,  had  made  a  welcome  epoch  to  the  minister.  To 
talk  with  this  young  man,  who,  though  hopeful,  had  a  singu- 
larity which  some  might  at  once  have  pronounced  heresy,  but 
which  Mr.  Lyon  persisted  in  regarding  as  orthodoxy  "  in  the 
making,"  was  like  a  good  bite  to  strong  teeth  after  a  too 
plentiful  allowance  of  spoon  meat.  To  cultivate  his  society 
with  a  view  to  checking  his  erratic  tendencies  was  a  laudable 
purpose  ;  but  perhaps  if  Felix  had  been  rapidly  subdued  and 
reduced  to  conformity,  little  Mr.  Lyon  would  have  found  the 
conversation  much  natter. 

Esther  had  not  seen  so  much  of  their  new  acquaintance  as 
her  father  had.  But  she  had  begun  to  find  him  amusing,  and 
also  rather  irritating  to  her  woman's  love  of  conquest.  He 
always  opposed  and  criticised  her ;  and  besides  that,  he  looked 
at  her  as  if  he  never  saw  a  single  detail  about  her  person  — 
quite  as  if  she  were  a  middle-aged  woman  in  a  cap.  She  did 
not  believe  that  he  had  ever  admired  her  hands,  or  her  long 
neck,  or  her  graceful  movements,  which  had  made  all  the 
girls  at  school  call  her  Calypso  (doubtless  from  their  famil- 
iarity with  "  Telemaque  ").  Felix  ought  properly  to  have  been 
a  little  in  love  with  her  —  never  mentioning  it,  of  course, 
because  that  would  have  been  disagreeable,  and  his  being  a 
regular  lover  was  out  of  the  question.  But  it  was  quite  clear 
that,  instead  of  feeling  any  disadvantage  on  his  own  side,  he 
held  himself  to  be  immeasurably  her  superior  :  and,  what  was 
worse,  Esther  had  a  secret  consciousness  that  he  was  her 
superior.  She  was  all  the  more  vexed  at  the  suspicion  that 
he  thought  slightly  of  her ;  and  wished  in  her  vexation  that 
she  could  have  found  more  fault  with  him  —  that  she  had  not 
been  obliged  to  admire  more  and  more  the  varying  expressions 
of  his  open  face  and  his  deliciously  good-humored  laugh, 
always  loud  at  a  joke  against  himself.  Besides,  she  could  not 
help  having  her  curiosity  roused  by  the  unusual  combinations 
both  in  his  mind  and  in  his  outward  position,  and  she  had 
surprised  herself  as  well  as  her  father  one  day  by  suddenly 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  127 

starting  up  and  proposing  to  walk  with  him  when  he  was 
going  to  pay  an  afternoon  visit  to  Mrs.  Holt,  to  try  and  soothe 
her  concerning  Felix.  "What  a  mother  he  has  !  "  she  said  to 
herself  when  they  came  away  again  ;  "  but,  rude  and  queer  as 
he  is,  I  cannot  say  there  is  anything  vulgar  about  him.  Yet 
—  I  don't  know  —  if  I  saw  him  by  the  side  of  a  finished  gen- 
tleman." Esther  wished  that  finished  gentleman  were  among 
her  acquaintances :  he  would  certainly  admire  her,  and  make 
her  aware  of  Felix's  inferiority. 

On  this  particular  Sunday  afternoon,  when  she  heard  the 
knock  at  the  door,  she  was  seated  in  the  kitchen  corner  be- 
tween the  fire  and  the  window  reading  "  KeneY'  Certainly  in 
her  well-fitting  light-blue  dress  —  she  almost  always  wore 
some  shade  of  blue  —  with  her  delicate  sandalled  slipper 
stretched  towards  the  fire,  her  little  gold  watch,  which  had 
cost  her  nearly  a  quarter's  earnings,  visible  at  her  side,  her 
slender  fingers  playing  with  a  shower  of  brown  curls,  and  a 
coronet  of  shining  plaits  at  the  summit  of  her  head,  she  was 
a  remarkable  Cinderella.  When  the  rap  came,  she  colored, 
and  was  going  to  shut  her  book  and  put  it  out  of  the  way  on 
the  window-ledge  behind  her ;  but  she  desisted  with  a  little 
toss,  laid  it  open  on  the  table  beside  her,  and  walked  to  the 
outer  door,  which  opened  into  the  kitchen.  There  was  rather 
a  mischievous  gleam  in  her  face  :  the  rap  was  not  a  small 
one ;  it  came  probably  from  a  large  personage  with  a  vigorous 
arm. 

"Good  afternoon,  Miss  Lyon,"  said  Felix,  taking  off  his 
cloth  cap  :  he  resolutely  declined  the  expensive  ugliness  of  a 
hat,  and  in  a  poked  cap  and  without  a  cravat,  made  a  figure 
at  which  his  mother  cried  every  Sunday,  and  thought  of  with 
a  slow  shake  of  the  head  at  several  passages  in  the  minister's 
prayer. 

"  Dear  me,  it  is  you,  Mr.  Holt !  I  fear  you  will  have  to 
wait  some  time  before  you  can  see  my  father.  The  sermon  is 
not  ended  yet,  and  there  will  be  the  hymn  and  the  prayer,  and 
perhaps  other  things  to  detain  him." 

"  Well,  will  you  let  me  sit  down  in  the  kitchen  ?  I  don't 
want  to  be  a  bore." 


128  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

"Oh,  no,"  said  Esther,  with  her  pretty  light  laugh,  "I 
always  give  you  credit  for  not  meaning  it.  Pray  come  in,  if 
you  don't  mind  waiting.  I  was  sitting  in  the  kitchen :  the 
kettle  is  singing  quite  prettily.  It  is  much  nicer  than  the 
parlor  —  not  half  so  ugly.3' 

"  There  I  agree  with  you." 

"  How  very  extraordinary  !  But  if  you  prefer  the  kitchen, 
and  don't  want  to  sit  with  me,  I  can  go  into  the  parlor." 

"I  came  on  purpose  to  sit  with  you,"  said  Felix,  in  his 
blunt  way,  "  but  I  thought  it  likely  you  might  be  vexed  at 
seeing  me.  I  wanted  to  talk  to  you,  but  I  've  got  nothing 
pleasant  to  say.  As  your  father  would  have  it,  I  'm  not  given 
to  prophesy  smooth  things  —  to  prophesy  deceit." 

"  I  understand,"  said  Esther,  sitting  down.  "  Pray  be 
seated.  You  thought  I  had  no  afternoon  sermon,  so  you  came 
to  give  me  one." 

"  Yes,"  said  Felix,  seating  himself  sideways  in  a  chair  not 
far  off  her,  and  leaning  over  the  back  to  look  at  her  with  his 
large  clear  gray  eyes,  "  and  my  text  is  something  you  said  the 
other  day.  You  said  you  did  n't  mind  about  people  having 
right  opinions  so  that  they  had  good  taste.  Now  I  want  you 
to  see  what  shallow  stuff  that  is." 

"  Oh,  I  don't  doubt  it  if  you  say  so.  I  know  you  are  a 
person  of  right  opinions." 

"  But  by  opinions  you  mean  men's  thoughts  about  great 
subjects,  and  by  taste  you  mean  their  thoughts  about  small 
ones :  dress,  behavior,  amusements,  ornaments." 

"  Well  —  yes  —  or  rather,  their  sensibilities  about  those 
things." 

"It  comes  to  the  same  thing;  thoughts,  opinions,  knowl- 
edge, are  only  a  sensibility  to  facts  and  ideas.  If  I  under- 
stand a  geometrical  problem,  it  is  because  I  have  a  sensibility 
to  the  way  in  which  lines  and  figures  are  related  to  each 
other ;  and  I  want  you  to  see  that  the  creature  who  has  the 
sensibilities  that  you  call  taste,  and  not  the  sensibilities  that 
you  call  opinions,  is  simply  a  lower,  pettier  sort  of  being  —  an 
insect  that  notices  the  shaking  of  the  table,  but  never  notices 
the  thunder." 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  129 

"  Very  well,  I  am  an  insect ;  yet  I  notice  that  you  are  thun- 
dering at  me." 

"  No,  you  are  not  an  insect.  That  is  what  exasperates  me 
at  your  making  a  boast  of  littleness.  You  have  enough  under- 
standing to  make  it  wicked  that  you  should  add  one  more  to 
the  women  who  hinder  men's  lives  from  having  any  nobleness 
in  them." 

Esther  colored  deeply  :  she  resented  this  speech,  yet  she  dis- 
liked it  less  than  many  Felix  had  addressed  to  her. 

"  What  is  my  horrible  guilt  ?  "  she  said,  rising  and  standing, 
as  she  was  wont,  with  one  foot  on  the  fender,  and  looking  at 
the  fire.  If  it  had  been  any  one  but  Felix  who  was  near  her, 
it  might  have  occurred  to  her  that  this  attitude  showed  her  to 
advantage  ;  but  she  had  only  a  mortified  sense  that  he  was 
quite  indifferent  to  what  others  praised  her  for. 

"  Why  do  you  read  this  mawkish  stuff  on  a  Sunday,  for  ex- 
ample ?  "  he  said,  snatching  up  "  Rene,"  and  running  his  eye 
over  the  pages. 

"  Why  don't  you  always  go  to  chapel,  Mr.  Holt,  and  read 
Howe's  '  Living  Temple/  and  join  the  Church  ?  " 

"There's  just  the  difference  between  us  —  I  know  why  I 
don't  do  those  things.  I  distinctly  see  that  I  can  do  something 
better.  I  have  other  principles,  and  should  sink  myself  by 
doing  what  I  don't  recognize  as  the  best." 

"  I  understand,"  said  Esther,  as  lightly  as  she  could,  to  con- 
ceal her  bitterness.  "  I  am  a  lower  kind  of  being,  and  could 
not  so  easily  sink  myself." 

"Not  by  entering  into  your  father's  ideas.  If  a  woman 
really  believes  herself  to  be  a  lower  kind  of  being,  she  should 
place  herself  in  subjection:  she  should  be  ruled  by  the  thoughts 
of  her  father  or  husband.  If  not,  let  her  show  her  power  of 
choosing  something  better.  You  must  know  that  your  father's 
principles  are  greater  and  worthier  than  what  guides  your  life. 
You  have  no  reason  but  idle  fancy  and  selfish  inclination  for 
shirking  his  teaching  and  giving  your  soul  up  to  trifles." 

"  You  are  kind  enough  to  say  so.  But  I  am  not  aware  that 
I  have  ever  confided  my  reasons  to  you." 

"  Why,  what  worth  calling  a  reason  could  make  any  mortal 

VOL.    III.  9 


130  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL. 

hang  over  this  trash  ?  —  idiotic  immorality  dressed  up  to  look 
fine,  with  a  little  bit  of  doctrine  tacked  to  it,  like  a  hare's  foot 
on  a  dish,  to  make  believe  the  mess  is  not  cat's  flesh.  Look 
here  !  '  Est-ce  ma  faute,  si  je  trouve  partout  les  bornes,  si  ce 
qui  est  fini  n'a  pour  moi  aucune  valeur  ? '  Yes,  sir,  distinctly 
your  fault,  because  you  're  an  ass.  Your  dunce  who  can't  do 
his  sums  always  has  a  taste  for  the  infinite.  Sir,  do  you  know 
what  a  rhomboid  is  ?  Oh  no,  I  don't  value  these  things  with 
limits.  'Cependant,  j'aime  la  monotonie  des  sentimens  de  la 
vie,  et  si  j'avais  encore  la  folie  de  croire  au  bonheur  — ' ' 

"  Oh,  pray,  Mr.  Holt,  don't  go  on  reading  with  that  dreadful 
accent ;  it  sets  one's  teeth  on  edge."  Esther,  smarting  help- 
lessly under  the  previous  lashes,  was  relieved  by  this  diversion 
of  criticism. 

"  There  it  is  !  "  said  Felix,  throwing  the  book  on  the  table, 
and  getting  up  to  walk  about.  "You  are  only  happy  when 
you  can  spy  a  tag  or  a  tassel  loose  to  turn  the  talk,  and  get  rid 
of  any  judgment  that  must  carry  grave  action  after  it." 

"  I  think  I  have  borne  a  great  deal  of  talk  without  turning  it." 

"  Not  enough,  Miss  Lyon  —  not  all  that  I  came  to  say.  I 
want  you  to  change.  Of  course  I  am  a  brute  to  say  so.  I  ought 
to  say  you  are  perfect.  Another  man  would,  perhaps.  But  I 
say  I  want  you  to  change." 

"  How  am  I  to  oblige  you  ?     By  joining  the  Church  ?  " 

"  No  ;  but  by  asking  yourself  whether  life  is  not  as  solemn 
a  thing  as  your  father  takes  it  to  be  —  in  which  you  may  be 
either  a  blessing  or  a  curse  to  many.  You  know  you  have 
never  done  that.  You  don't  care  to  be  better  than  a  bird  trim- 
ming its  feathers,  and  pecking  about  after  what  pleases  it. 
You  are  discontented  with  the  world  because  you  can't  get 
just  the  small  things  that  suit  your  pleasure,  not  because  it 's 
a  world  where  myriads  of  men  and  women  are  ground  by  wrong 
and  misery,  and  tainted  with  pollution." 

Esther  felt  her  heart  swelling  with  mingled  indignation 
at  this  liberty,  wounded  pride  at  this  depreciation,  and  acute 
consciousness  that  she  could  not  contradict  what  Felix  said. 
He  was  outrageously  ill-bred  ;  but  she  felt  that  she  should  be 
lowering  herself  by  telling  him  so,  and  manifesting  her  anger  ; 


FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL.  131 

in  that  way  she  would  be  confirming  his  accusation  of  a  little- 
ness that  shrank  from  severe  truth  ;  and,  besides,  through  all 
her  mortification  there  pierced  a  sense  that  this  exasperation 
of  Felix  against  her  was  more  complimentary  than  anything 
in  his  previous  behavior.  She  had  self-command  enough  to 
speak  with  her  usual  silvery  voice. 

"  Pray  go  on,  Mr.  Holt.  Relieve  yourself  of  these  burning 
truths.  I  am  sure  they  must  be  troublesome  to  carry  un- 
uttered." 

"  Yes,  they  are,"  said  Felix,  pausing,  and  standing  not  far 
off  her.  "  I  can't  bear  to  see  you  going  the  way  of  the  foolish 
women  who  spoil  men's  lives.  Men  can't  help  loving  them, 
and  so  they  make  themselves  slaves  to  the  petty  desires  of 
petty  creatures.  That  's  the  way  those  who  might  do  better 
spend  their  lives  for  nought  —  get  checked  in  every  great 
effort  —  toil  with  brain  and  limb  for  things  that  have  no  more 
to  do  with  a  manly  life  than  tarts  and  confectionery.  That 's 
what  makes  women  a  curse  ;  all  life  is  stunted  to  suit  their 
littleness.  That 's  why  I  '11  never  love,  if  I  can  help  it ;  and 
if  I  love,  I  '11  bear  it,  and  never  marry." 

The  tumult  of  feeling  in  Esther's  mind  —  mortification, 
anger,  the  sense  of  a  terrible  power  over  her  that  Felix  seemed 
to  have  as  his  angry  words  vibrated  through  her  —  was  getting 
almost  too  much  for  her  self-control.  She  felt  her  lips  quiver- 
ing ;  but  her  pride,  which  feared  nothing  so  much  as  the  be- 
trayal of  her  emotion,  helped  her  to  a  desperate  effort.  She 
pinched  her  own  hand  hard  to  overcome  her  tremor,  and  said, 
in  a  tone  of  scorn  — 

"  I  ought  to  be  very  much  obliged  to  you  for  giving  me 
your  confidence  so  freely." 

"  Ah !  now  you  are  offended  with  me,  and  disgusted  with 
me.  I  expected  it  would  be  so.  A  woman  doesn't  like  a 
man  who  tells  her  the  truth." 

"  I  think  you  boast  a  little  too  much  of  your  truth-telling, 
Mr.  Holt,"  said  Esther,  flashing  out  at  last.  "  That  virtue  is 
apt  to  be  easy  to  people  when  they  only  wound  others  and 
not  themselves.  Telling  the  truth  often  means  no  more  than 
taking  a  liberty." 


132  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL. 

"  Yes,  I  suppose  I  should  have  been  taking  a  liberty  if  I 
had  tried  to  drag  you  back  by  the  skirt  when  I  saw  you  run- 
ning into  a  pit." 

"  You  should  really  found  a  sect.  Preaching  is  your  voca- 
tion. It  is  a  pity  you  should  ever  have  an  audience  of  only 
one." 

"  I  see ;  I  have  made  a  fool  of  myself.  I  thought  you  had 
a  more  generous  mind  —  that  you  might  be  kindled  to  a  better 
ambition.  But  I  've  set  your  vanity  aflame  —  nothing  else. 
I  'in  going.  Good-by." 

"  Good-by,"  said  Esther,  not  looking  at  him.  He  did  not 
open  the  door  immediately.  He  seemed  to  be  adjusting  his 
cap  and  pulling  it  down.  Esther  longed  to  be  able  to  throw 
a  lasso  round  him  and  compel  him  to  stay,  that  she  might  say 
what  she  chose  to  him ;  her  very  anger  made  this  departure 
irritating,  especially  as  he  had  the  last  word,  and  that  a  very 
bitter  one.  But  soon  the  latch  was  lifted  and  the  door  closed 
behind  him.  She  ran  up  to  her  bedroom  and  burst  into  tears. 
Poor  maiden  !  There  was  a  strange  contradiction  of  impulses 
in  her  mind  in  those  first  moments.  She  could  not  bear  that 
Felix  should  not  respect  her,  yet  she  could  not  bear  that  he 
should  see  her  bend  before  his  denunciation.  She  revolted 
against  his  assumption  of  superiority,  yet  she  felt  herself  in 
a  new  kind  of  subjection  to  him.  He  was  ill-bred,  he  was 
rude,  he  had  taken  an  unwarrantable  liberty ;  yet  his  indig- 
nant words  were  a  tribute  to  her :  he  thought  she  was  worth 
more  pains  than  the  women  of  whom  he  took  no  notice.  It 
was  excessively  impertinent  in  him  to  tell  her  of  his  resolving 
not  to  love  —  not  to  marry  —  as  if  she  cared  about  that ;  as 
if  he  thought  himself  likely  to  inspire  an  affection  that  would 
incline  any  woman  to  marry  him  after  such  eccentric  steps  as 
he  had  taken.  Had  he  ever  for  a  moment  imagined  that  she 
had  thought  of  him  in  the  light  of  a  man  who  would  make 
love  to  her  ?  .  .  .  But  did  he  love  her  one  little  bit,  and  was 
that  the  reason  why  he  wanted  her  to  change  ?  Esther  felt 
less  angry  at  that  form  of  freedom ;  though  she  was  quite 
sure  that  she  did  not  love  him,  and  that  she  could  never  love 
any  one  who  was  so  much  of  a  pedagogue  and  a  master,  to  say 


FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL.  133 

nothing  of  his  oddities.  But  he  wanted  her  to  change.  For 
the  first  time  in  her  life  Esther  felt  herself  seriously  shaken 
in  her  self-contentment.  She  knew  there  was  a  mind  to  which 
she  appeared  trivial,  narrow,  selfish.  Every  word  Felix  had 
said  to  her  seemed  to  have  burned  itself  into  her  memory. 
She  felt  as  if  she  should  forevermore  be  haunted  by  self- 
criticism,  and  never  do  anything  to  satisfy  those  fancies  on 
which  she  had  simply  piqued  herself  before  without  being 
dogged  by  inward  questions.  Her  father's  desire  for  her  con- 
version had  never  moved  her  ;  she  saw  that  he  adored  her  all 
the  while,  and  he  never  checked  her  unregenerate  acts  as  if 
they  degraded  her  on  earth,  but  only  mourned  over  them  as 
unfitting  her  for  heaven.  Unfitness  for  heaven  (spoken  of 
as  "  Jerusalem  "  and  "  glory  "),  the  prayers  of  a  good  little 
father,  whose  thoughts  and  motives  seemed  to  her  like  the 
"  Life  of  Dr.  Doddridge,"  which  she  was  content  to  leave  un- 
read, did  not  attack  her  self-respect  and  self-satisfaction.  But 
now  she  had  been  stung  —  stung  even  into  a  new  conscious- 
ness concerning  her  father.  Was  it  true  that  his  life  was  so 
much  worthier  than  her  own  ?  She  could  not  change  for  any- 
thing Felix  said,  but  she  told  herself  he  was  mistaken  if  he 
supposed  her  incapable  of  generous  thoughts. 

She  heard  her  father  coming  into  the  house.  She  dried 
her  tears,  tried  to  recover  herself  hurriedly,  and  went  down 
to  him. 

"  You  want  your  tea,  father ;  how  your  forehead  burns  !  " 
she  said  gently,  kissing  his  brow,  and  then  putting  her  cool 
hand  on  it. 

Mr.  Lyon  felt  a  little  surprise ;  such  spontaneous  tender- 
ness was  not  quite  common  with  her ;  it  reminded  him  of  her 
mother. 

"  My  sweet  child,"  he  said  gratefully,  thinking  with  wonder 
of  the  treasures  still  left  in  our  fallen  nature. 


134  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

Truth  is  the  precious  harvest  of  the  earth. 
But  once,  when  harvest  waved  upon  a  land, 
The  noisome  cankerworm  and  caterpillar, 
Locusts,  and  all  the  swarming  foul-born  broods, 
Fastened  upon  it  with  swift,  greedy  jaws, 
And  turned  the  harvest  into  pestilence, 
Until  men  said,  What  profits  it  to  sow  ? 

FELIX  was  going  to  Sproxton  that  Sunday  afternoon.  He 
always  enjoyed  his  walk  to  that  outlying  hainlet ;  it  took  him 
(by  a  short  cut)  through  a  corner  of  Sir  Maximus  Debarry's 
park ;  then  across  a  piece  of  common,  broken  here  and  there 
into  red  ridges  below  dark  masses  of  furze ;  and  for  the  rest 
of  the  way  alongside  the  canal,  where  the  Sunday  peaceful- 
ness  that  seemed  to  rest  on  the  bordering  meadows  and  pas- 
tures was  hardly  broken  if  a  horse  pulled  into  sight  along  the 
towing-path,  and  a  boat,  with  a  little  curl  of  blue  smoke  issu- 
ing from  its  tin  chimney,  came  slowly  gliding  behind.  Felix 
retained  something  of  his  boyish  impression  that  the  days  in 
a  canal-boat  were  all  like  Sundays ;  but  the  horse,  if  it  had 
been  put  to  him,  would  probably  have  preferred  a  more  Judaic 
or  Scotch  rigor  with  regard  to  canal-boats,  or  at  least  that  the 
Sunday  towing  should  be  done  by  asses,  as  a  lower  order. 

This  canal  was  only  a  branch  of  the  grand  trunk,  and  ended 
among  the  coal-pits,  where  Felix,  crossing  a  network  of  black 
tram-roads,  soon  came  to  his  destination  —  that  public  insti- 
tute of  Sproxton,  known  to  its  frequenters  chiefly  as  Chubb's, 
but  less  familiarly  as  the  Sugar  Loaf,  or  the  New  Pits ;  this 
last  being  the  name  for  the  more  modern  and  lively  nucleus 
of  the  Sproxton  hamlet.  The  other  nucleus,  known  as  the 
Old  Pits,  also  supported  its  "  public,"  but  it  had  something  of 
the  forlorn  air  of  an  abandoned  capital ;  and  the  company 
at  the  Blue  Cow  was  of  an  inferior  kind  —  equal,  of  course, 
in  the  fundamental  attributes  of  humanity,  such  as  desire  for 
beer,  but  not  equal  in  ability  to  pay  for  it. 


FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL.  135 

When  Felix  arrived,  the  great  Chubb  was  standing  at  the 
door.  Mr.  Chubb  was  a  remarkable  publican ;  none  of  your 
stock  Bonifaces,  red,  bloated,  jolly,  and  joking.  He  was  thin 
and  sallow,  and  was  never,  as  his  constant  guests  observed, 
seen  to  be  the  worse  (or  the  better)  for  liquor ;  indeed,  as 
among  soldiers  an  eminent  general  was  held  to  have  a  charmed 
life,  Chubb  was  held  by  the  members  of  the  Benefit  Club  to 
have  a  charmed  sobriety,  a  vigilance  over  his  own  interest 
that  resisted  all  narcotics.  His  very  dreams,  as  stated  by 
himself,  had  a  method  in  them  beyond  the  waking  thoughts 
of  other  men.  Pharaoh's  dream,  he  observed,  was  nothing  to 
them  ;  and,  as  lying  so  much  out  of  ordinary  experience,  they 
were  held  particularly  suitable  for  narration  on  Sunday  even- 
ings, when  the  listening  colliers,  well  washed  and  in  their 
best  coats,  shook  their  heads  with  a  sense  of  that  peculiar 
edification  which  belongs  to  the  inexplicable.  Mr.  Chubb's 
reasons  for  becoming  landlord  of  the  Sugar  Loaf  were  founded 
on  the  severest  calculation.  Having  an  active  mind,  and  being 
averse  to  bodily  labor,  he  had  thoroughly  considered  what 
calling  would  yield  him  the  best  livelihood  with  the  least 
possible  exertion,  and  in  that  sort  of  line  he  had  seen  that  a 
"  public  "  amongst  miners  who  earned  high  wages  was  a  fine 
opening.  He  had  prospered  according  to  the  merits  of  such 
judicious  calculation,  was  already  a  forty -shilling  freeholder, 
and  was  conscious  of  a  vote  for  the  county.  He  was  not  one 
of  those  mean-spirited  men  who  found  the  franchise  embar- 
rassing, and  would  rather  have  been  without  it :  he  regarded 
his  vote  as  part  of  his  investment,  and  meant  to  make  the 
best  of  it.  He  called  himself  a  straightforward  man,  and  at 
suitable  moments  expressed  his  views  freely ;  in  fact,  he  was 
known  to  have  one  fundamental  division  for  all  opinion  — 
"  my  idee  "  and  "  humbug." 

When  Felix  approached,  Mr.  Chubb  was  standing,  as  usual, 
with  his  hands  nervously  busy  in  his  pockets,  his  eyes  glan- 
cing round  with  a  detective  expression  at  the  black  landscape, 
and  his  lipless  mouth  compressed  yet  in  constant  movement. 
On  a  superficial  view  it  might  be  supposed  that  so  eager- 
seeming  a  personality  was  unsuited  to  the  publican's  business ; 


136  FELIX  HOLT,   THE   RADICAL. 

but  in  fact  it  was  a  great  provocative  to  drinking.  Like  the 
shrill  biting  talk  of  a  vixenish  wife,  it  would  have  compelled 
you  to  "take  a  little  something"  by  way  of  dulling  your 
sensibility. 

Hitherto,  notwithstanding  Felix  drank  so  little  ale,  the 
publican  had  treated  him  with  high  civility.  The  coming 
election  was  a  great  opportunity  for  applying  his  political 
"  idee,"  which  was,  that  society  existed  for  the  sake  of  the 
individual,  and  that  the  name  of  that  individual  was  Chubb. 
Now,  from  a  conjunction  of  absurd  circumstances  inconsistent 
with  that  idea,  it  happened  that  Sproxton  had  been  hitherto 
somewhat  neglected  in  the  canvass.  The  head  member  of 
the  Company  that  worked  the  mines  was  Mr.  Peter  Garstin, 
and  the  same  company  received  the  rent  for  the  Sugar  Loaf. 
Hence,  as  the  person  who  had  the  most  power  of  annoying 
Mr.  Chubb,  and  being  of  detriment  to  him,  Mr.  Garstin  was 
naturally  the  candidate  for  whom  he  had  reserved  his  vote. 
But  where  there  is  this  intention  of  ultimately  gratifying  a 
gentleman  by  voting  for  him  in  an  open  British  manner  on 
the  day  of  the  poll,  a  man,  whether  Publican  or  Pharisee  (Mr. 
Chubb  used  this  generic  classification  of  mankind  as  one  that 
was  sanctioned  by  Scripture),  is  all  the  freer  in  his  relations 
with  those  deluded  persons  who  take  him  for  what  he  is  not, 
and  imagine  him  to  be  a  waverer.  But  for  some  time  oppor- 
tunity had  seemed  barren.  There  were  but  three  dubious 
votes  besides  Mr.  Chubb's  in  the  small  district  of  which  the 
Sugar  Loaf  could  be  regarded  as  the  centre  of  intelligence 
and  inspiration :  the  colliers,  of  course,  had  no  votes,  and  did 
not  need  political  conversion ;  consequently,  the  interests  of 
Sproxton  had  only  been  tacitly  cherished  in  the  breasts  of 
candidates.  But  ever  since  it  had  been  known  that  a  Radical 
candidate  was  in  the  field,  that  in  consequence  of  this  Mr. 
Debarry  had  coalesced  with  Mr.  Garstin,  and  that  Sir  James 
Clement,  the  poor  baronet,  had  retired,  Mr.  Chubb  had  been 
occupied  with  the  most  ingenious  mental  combinations  in  order 
to  ascertain  what  possibilities  of  profit  to  the  Sugar  Loaf  might 
lie  in  this  altered  state  of  the  canvass. 

He  had  a  cousin  in  another  county,  also  a  publican,  but  in 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  137 

a  larger  way,  and  resident  in  a  borough,  and  from  him  Mr. 
Chubb  had  gathered  more  detailed  political  information  than 
he  could  find  in  the  Loamshire  newspapers.  He  was  now 
enlightened  enough  to  know  that  there  was  a  way  of  using 
voteless  miners  and  navvies  at  Nominations  and  Elections. 
He  approved  of  that ;  it  entered  into  his  political  "  idee ; " 
and  indeed  he  would  have  been  for  extending  the  franchise  to 
this  class  —  at  least  in  Sproxton.  If  any  one  had  observed 
that  you  must  draw  a  line  somewhere,  Mr.  Chubb  would  have 
concurred  at  once,  and  would  have  given  permission  to  draw 
it  at  a  radius  of  two  miles  from  his  own  tap. 

From  the  first  Sunday  evening  when  Felix  had  appeared  at 
the  Sugar  Loaf,  Mr.  Chubb  had  made  up  his  mind  that  this 
'cute  man  who  kept  himself  sober  was  an  electioneering  agent. 
That  he  was  hired  for  some  purpose  or  other  there  was  not  a 
doubt ;  a  man  did  n't  come  and  drink  nothing  without  a  good 
reason.  In  proportion  as  Felix's  purpose  was  not  obvious  to 
Chubb's  mind,  it  must  be  deep ;  and  this  growing  conviction 
had  even  led  the  publican  on  the  last  Sunday  evening  privately 
to  urge  his  mysterious  visitor  to  let  a  little  ale  be  chalked  up 
for  him  —  it  was  of  no  consequence.  Felix  knew  his  man,  and 
had  taken  care  not  to  betray  too  soon  that  his  real  object  was 
so  to  win  the  ear  of  the  best  fellows  about  him  as  to  induce 
them  to  meet  him  on  a  Saturday  evening  in  the  room  where 
Mr.  Lyon,  or  one  of  his  deacons,  habitually  held  his  Wednes- 
day preachings.  Only  women  and  children,  three  old  men,  a 
journeyman  tailor,  and  a  consumptive  youth,  attended  those 
preachings ;  not  a  collier  had  been  won  from  the  strong  ale 
of  the  Sugar  Loaf,  not  even  a  navvy  from  the  muddier  drink 
of  the  Blue  Cow.  Felix  was  sanguine  ;  he  saw  some  pleasant 
faces  among  the  miners  when  they  were  washed  on  Sundays ; 
they  might  be  taught  to  spend  their  wages  better.  At  all 
events,  he  was  going  to  try :  he  had  great  confidence  in  his 
powers  of  appeal,  and  it  was  quite  true  that  he  never  spoke 
without  arresting  attention.  There  was  nothing  better  than  a 
dame  school  in  the  hamlet ;  he  thought  that  if  he  could  move 
the  fathers,  whose  blackened  week-day  persons  and  flannel 
caps,  ornamented  with  tallow  candles  by  way  of  plume,  were 


138  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

a  badge  of  hard  labor  for  which  he  had  a  more  sympathetic 
fibre  than  for  any  ribbon  in  the  button-hole  —  if  he  could 
move  these  men  to  save  something  from  their  drink  and  pay  a 
schoolmaster  for  their  boys,  a  greater  service  would  be  done 
them  than  if  Mr.  Garstin  and  his  company  were  persuaded  to 
establish  a  school. 

"  I  '11  lay  hold  of  them  by  their  fatherhood,"  said  Felix ; 
"  I  '11  take  one  of  their  little  fellows  and  set  him  in  the  midst. 
Till  they  can  show  there's  something  they  love  better  than 
swilling  themselves  with  ale,  extension  of  the  suffrage  can 
never  mean  anything  for  them  but  extension  of  boozing.  One 
must  begin  somewhere  :  I  '11  begin  at  what  is  under  my  nose. 
I  '11  begin  at  Sproxton.  That 's  what  a  man  would  do  if  he 
had  a  red-hot  superstition.  Can't  one  work  for  sober  truth  as 
hard  as  for  megrims  ?  " 

Felix  Holt  had  his  illusions,  like  other  young  men,  though 
they  were  not  of  a  fashionable  sort ;  referring  neither  to  the 
impression  his  costume  and  horsemanship  might  make  on  be- 
holders, nor  to  the  ease  with  which  he  would  pay  the  Jews 
when  he  gave  a  loose  to  his  talents  and  applied  himself  to 
work.  He  had  fixed  his  choice  on  a  certain  Mike  Brindle  (not 
that  Brindle  was  his  real  name  —  each  collier  had  his  sobriquet) 
as  the  man  whom  he  would  induce  to  walk  part  of  the  way 
home  with  him  this  very  evening,  and  get  to  invite  some  of 
his  comrades  for  the  next  Saturday.  Brindle  was  one  of  the 
head  miners;  he  had  a  bright  good-natured  face,  and  had 
given  especial  attention  to  certain  performances  with  a  mag- 
net which  Felix  carried  in  his  pocket. 

Mr.  Chubb,  who  had  also  his  illusions,  smiled  graciously  as 
the  enigmatic  customer  came  up  to  the  door-step. 

"  Well,  sir,  Sunday  seems  to  be  your  day :  I  begin  to  look 
for  you  on  a  Sunday  now." 

"  Yes,  I  'm  a  working  man ;  Sunday  is  my  holiday,"  said 
Felix,  pausing  at  the  door  since  the  host  seemed  to  expect 
this. 

"  Ah,  sir,  there 's  many  ways  of  working.  I  look  at  it 
you  're  one  of  those  as  work  with  your  brains.  That 's  what 
I  do  myself." 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  139 

"  One  may  do  a  good  deal  of  that  and  work  with  one's  hands 
too." 

"  Ah,  sir,"  said  Mr.  Chubb,  with  a  certain  bitterness  in  his 
smile,  "  I  've  that  sort  of  head  that  I  've  often  wished  I  was 
stupider.  I  use  things  up,  sir ;  I  see  into  things  a  deal  too 
quick.  I  eat  my  dinner,  as  you  may  say,  at  breakfast-time. 
That 's  why  I  hardly  ever  smoke  a  pipe.  No  sooner  do  I  stick 
a  pipe  in  my  mouth  than  I  puff  and  puff  till  it 's  gone  before 
other  folks'  are  well  lit ;  and  then,  where  am  I  ?  I  might  as 
well  have  let  it  alone.  In  this  world  it 's  better  not  to  be  too 
quick.  But  you  know  what  it  is,  sir." 

"  Not  I,"  said  Felix,  rubbing  the  back  of  his  head,  with  a 
grimace.  "  I  generally  feel  myself  rather  a  blockhead.  The 
world 's  a  largish  place,  and  I  have  n't  turned  everything  inside 
out  yet." 

"  Ah,  that 's  your  deepness.  I  think  we  understand  one 
another.  And  about  this  here  election,  I  lay  two  to  one  we 
should  agree  if  we  was  to  come  to  talk  about  it." 

"  Ah !  "  said  Felix,  with  an  air  of  caution. 

"  You  're  none  of  a  Tory,  eh,  sir  ?  You  won't  go  to  vote 
for  Debarry  ?  That  was  what  I  said  at  the  very  first  go-off. 
Says  I,  he  's  no  Tory.  I  think  I  was  right,  sir  —  eh  ?  " 

"  Certainly ;  I  'm  no  Tory." 

"No,  no,  you  don't  catch  me  wrong  in  a  hurry.  Well, 
between  you  and  me,  I  care  no  more  for  the  Debarrys  than  I 
care  for  Johnny  Groats.  I  live  on  none  o'  their  land,  and  not 
a  pot's-worth  did  they  ever  send  to  the  Sugar  Loaf.  I  'm  not 
frightened  at  the  Debarrys :  there 's  no  man  more  independent 
than  me.  I  '11  plump  or  I  '11  split  for  them  as  treat  me  the 
handsomest  and  are  the  most  of  what  I  call  gentlemen ;  that 's 
my  idee.  And  in  the  way  of  hacting  for  any  man,  them  are 
fools  that  don't  employ  me." 

We  mortals  sometimes  cut  a  pitiable  figure  in  our  attempts 
at  display.  We  may  be  sure  of  our  own  merits,  yet  fatally 
ignorant  of  the  point  of  view  from  which  we  are  regarded 
by  our  neighbor.  Our  fine  patterns  in  tattooing  may  be  far 
from  throwing  him  into  a  swoon  of  admiration,  though  we  turn 
ourselves  all  round  to  show  them.  Thus  it  was  with  Mr.  Chubb. 


140  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL. 

"  Yes,"  said  Felix,  dryly ;  "  I  should  think  there  are  some 
sorts  of  work  for  which  you  are  just  fitted." 

"  Ah,  you  see  that  ?  Well,  we  understand  one  another. 
You  're  no  Tory ;  no  more  am  I.  And  if  I  'd  got  four  hands 
to  show  at  a  nomination,  the  Debarrys  should  n't  have  one  of 
'em.  My  idee  is,  there 's  a  deal  too  much  of  their  scutchius 
and  their  moniments  in  Treby  Church.  What 's  their  scutchins 
mean  ?  They  're  a  sign  with  little  liquor  behind  'em ;  that 's 
how  I  take  it.  There 's  nobody  can  give  account  of  'em  as  I 
ever  heard." 

Mr.  Chubb  was  hindered  from  further  explaining  his  views 
as  to  the  historical  element  in  society  by  the  arrival  of  new 
guests,  who  approached  in  two  groups.  The  foremost  group 
consisted  of  well-known  colliers,  in  their  good  Sunday  beavers 
and  colored  handkerchiefs  serving  as  cravats,  with  the  long 
ends  floating.  The  second  group  was  a  more  unusual  one, 
and  caused  Mr.  Chubb  to  compress  his  mouth  and  agitate  the 
muscles  about  it  in  rather  an  excited  manner. 

First  came  a  smartly  dressed  personage  on  horseback,  with 
a  conspicuous  expansive  shirt-front  and  figured  satin  stock. 
He  was  a  stout  man,  and  gave  a  strong  sense  of  broadcloth. 
A  wild  idea  shot  through  Mr.  Chubb's  brain  :  could  this  grand 
visitor  be  Harold  Transome  ?  Excuse  him :  he  had  been 
given  to  understand  by  his  cousin  from  the  distant  borough 
that  a  Radical  candidate  in  the  condescension  of  canvassing 
had  even  gone  the  length  of  eating  bread-and-treacle  with  the 
children  of  an  honest  freeman,  and  declaring  his  preference 
for  that  simple  fare.  Mr.  Chubb's  notion  of  a  Kadical  was 
that  he  was  a  new  and  agreeable  kind  of  lick-spittle  who 
fawned  on  the  poor  instead  of  on  the  rich,  and  so  was  likely  to 
send  customers  to  a  "  public ;  "  so  that  he  argued  well  enough 
from  the  premises  at  his  command. 

The  mounted  man  of  broadcloth  had  followers :  several 
shabby-looking  men,  and  Sproxton  boys  of  all  sizes,  whose 
curiosity  had  been  stimulated  by  unexpected  largesse.  A 
stranger  on  horseback  scattering  halfpence  on  a  Sunday  was 
so  unprecedented  that  there  was  no  knowing  what  he  might 
do  next ;  and  the  smallest  hindmost  fellows  in  seal-skin  caps 


FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL.  141 

were  not  without  hope  that  an  entirely  new  order  of  things 
had  set  in. 

Every  one  waited  outside  for  the  stranger  to  dismount,  and 
Mr.  Chubb  advanced  to  take  the  bridle. 

"Well,  Mr.  Chubb,"  were  the  first  words  when  the  great 
man  was  safely  out  of  the  saddle,  "  I  've  often  heard  of  your 
fine  tap,  and  I  'm  come  to  taste  it." 

"  Walk  in,  sir  —  pray  walk  in,"  said  Mr.  Chubb,  giving  the 
horse  to  the  stable-boy.  "  I  shall  be  proud  to  draw  for  you. 
If  anybody's  been  praising  me,  I  think  my  ale  will  back 
him." 

All  entered  in  the  rear  of  the  stranger  except  the  boys,  who 
peeped  in  at  the  window. 

"  Won't  you  please  to  walk  into  the  parlor,  sir  ? "  said 
Chubb,  obsequiously. 

"  No,  no,  I  '11  sit  down  here.  This  is  what  I  like  to  see," 
said  the  stranger,  looking  round  at  the  colliers,  who  eyed  him 
rather  shyly  —  "a  bright  hearth  where  working  men  can  enjoy 
themselves.  However,  I  '11  step  into  the  other  room  for  three 
minutes,  just  to  speak  half-a-dozen  words  with  you." 

Mr.  Chubb  threw  open  the  parlor  door,  and  then  stepping 
back,  took  the  opportunity  of  saying,  in  a  low  tone,  to  Felix, 
"  Do  you  know  this  gentleman  ?  " 

"Not  I;  no." 

Mr.  Chubb's  opinion  of  Felix  Holt  sank  from  that  moment. 
The  parlor  door  was  closed,  but  no  one  sat  down  or  ordered 
beer. 

"  I  say,  master,"  said  Mike  Brindle,  going  up  to  Felix,  "  don't 
you  think  that 's  one  o'  the  'lection  men  ?  " 

"Very  likely." 

"  I  heared  a  chap  say  they  're  up  and  down  everywhere," 
said  Brindle  ;  "  and  now 's  the  time,  they  say,  when  a  man  can 
get  beer  for  nothing." 

"  Ay,  that 's  sin'  the  Keform,"  said  a  big,  red-whiskered 
man,  called  Dredge.  "  That 's  brought  the  'lections  and  the 
drink  into  these  parts  ;  for  afore  that,  it  was  all  kep  up  the 
Lord  knows  wheer." 

"  Well,  but  the  Reform's  niver  come  anigh  Sprox'on,"  said  a 


142  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL. 

gray-haired  but  stalwart  man  called  Old  Sleek.  "  I  don't  be- 
lieve nothing  about  'n,  I  don't." 

"  Don't  you  ?  "  said  Brindle,  with  some  contempt.  "  Well, 
I  do.  There  's  folks  won't  believe  beyond  the  end  o'  their  own 
pickaxes.  You  can't  drive  nothing  into  'em,  not  if  you  split 
their  skulls.  I  know  for  certain  sure,  from  a  chap  in  the  cart- 
in'  way,  as  he 's  got  money  and  drink  too,  only  for  hollering. 
Eh,  master,  what  do  you  say  ?  "  Brindle  ended,  turning  with 
some  deference  to  Felix. 

"  Should  you  like  to  know  all  about  the  Eeform  ? "  said 
Felix,  using  his  opportunity.  "  If  you  would,  I  can  tell 
you." 

"Ay,  ay  —  tell 's  ;  you  know,  I'll  be  bound,"  said  several 
voices  at  once. 

"  Ah,  but  it  will  take  some  little  time.  And  we  must  be 
quiet.  The  cleverest  of  you  —  those  who  are  looked  up  to  in 
the  Club  —  must  come  and  meet  me  at  Peggy  Button's  cottage 
next  Saturday,  at  seven  o'clock,  after  dark.  And,  Brindle, 
you  must  bring  that  little  yellow-haired  lad  of  yours.  And 
anybody  that's  got  a  little  boy — a  very  little  fellow,  who 
won't  understand  what  is  said  —  may  bring  him.  But  you 
must  keep  it  close,  you  know.  We  don't  want  fools  there. 
But  everybody  who  hears  me  may  come.  I  shall  be  at  Peggy 
Button's." 

"Why,  that's  where  the  Wednesday  preachin'  is,"  said 
Dredge.  "I've  been  aforced  to  give  my  wife  a  black  eye 
to  hinder  her  from  going  to  the  preachin'.  Lors-a-massy,  she 
thinks  she  knows  better  nor  me,  and  I  can't  make  head  nor 
tail  of  her  talk." 

"  Why  can't  you  let  the  woman  alone  ?  "  said  Brindle,  with 
some  disgust.  "  I  'd  be  ashamed  to  beat  a  poor  crawling  thing 
'cause  she  likes  preaching." 

"  No  more  I  did  beat  her  afore,  not  if  she  scrat'  me,"  said 
Dredge,  in  vindication  ;  "  but  if  she  jabbers  at  me,  I  can't 
abide  it.  Howsomever,  I  '11  bring  my  Jack  to  Peggy's  o'  Sat- 
urday. His  mother  shall  wash  him.  He  is  but  four  year 
old,  and  he  '11  swear  and  square  at  me  a  good  un,  if  I  set 
him  on." 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  143 

"  There  you  go  blatherin',"  said  Brindle,  intending  a  mild 
rebuke. 

This  dialogue,  which  was  in  danger  of  becoming  too  per- 
sonal, was  interrupted  by  the  reopening  of  the  parlor  door, 
and  the  reappearance  of  the  impressive  stranger  with  Mr. 
Chubb,  whose  countenance  seemed  unusually  radiant. 

"  Sit  you  down  here,  Mr.  Johnson,"  said  Chubb,  moving  an 
arm-chair.  "  This  gentleman  is  kind  enough  to  treat  the  com- 
pany," he  added,  looking  round,  "and  what's  more,  he'll  take 
a  cup  with  'em  ;  and  I  think  there 's  no  man  but  what  '11  say 
that's  a  honor." 

The  company  had  nothing  equivalent  to  a  "  hear,  hear,"  at 
command,  but  they  perhaps  felt  the  more,  as  they  seated  them- 
selves with  an  expectation  unvented  by  utterance.  There  was 
a  general  satisfactory  sense  that  the  hitherto  shadowy  Reform 
had  at  length  come  to  Sproxton  in  a  good  round  shape,  with 
broadcloth  and  pockets.  Felix  did  not  intend  to  accept  the 
treating,  but  he  chose  to  stay  and  hear,  taking  his  pint  as 
usual. 

"  Capital  ale,  capital  ale,"  said  Mr.  Johnson,  as  he  set  down 
his  glass,  speaking  in  a  quick,  smooth  treble.  "Now,"  he 
went  on,  with  a  certain  pathos  in  his  voice,  looking  at  Mr. 
Chubb,  who  sat  opposite,  "  there  's  some  satisfaction  to  me  in 
finding  an  establishment  like  this  at  the  Pits.  For  what 
would  higher  wages  do  for  the  working  man  if  he  could  n't  get 
a  good  article  for  his  money  ?  "Why,  gentlemen  "  —  here  he 
looked  round  —  "I  've  been  into  ale-houses  where  I  've  seen 
a  fine  fellow  of  a  miner  or  a  stone-cutter  come  in  and  have 
to  lay  down  money  for  beer  that  I  should  be  sorry  to  give  to 
my  pigs  ! "  Here  Mr.  Johnson  leaned  forward  with  squared 
elbows,  hands  placed  on  his  knees,  and  a  defiant  shake  of  the 
head. 

"  Aw,  like  at  the  Blue  Cow,"  fell  in  the  irrepressible  Dredge, 
in  a  deep  bass ;  but  he  was  rebuked  by  a  severe  nudge  from 
Brindle. 

"  Yes,  yes,  you  know  what  it  is,  my  friend,"  said  Mr.  John- 
son, looking  at  Dredge,  and  restoring  his  self-satisfaction. 
"  But  it  won't  last  much  longer,  that 's  one  good  thing.  Bad 


144  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL. 

liquor  will  be  swept  away  with  other  bad  articles.  Trade  will 
prosper  —  and  what 's  trade  now  without  steam  ?  and  what  is 
steam  without  coal  ?  And  mark  you  this,  gentlemen  —  there 's 
no  man  and  no  government  can  make  coal." 

A  brief  loud  "  Haw,  haw,"  showed  that  this  fact  was  appre- 
ciated. 

"Nor  freeston'  nayther,"  said  a  wide-mouthed  wiry  man 
called  Gills,  who  wished  for  an  exhaustive  treatment  of  the 
subject,  being  a  stone-cutter. 

"  Nor  freestone,  as  you  say ;  else,  I  think,  if  coal  could  be 
made  aboveground,  honest  fellows  who  are  the  pith  of  our 
population  would  not  have  to  bend  their  backs  and  sweat  in  a 
pit  six  days  out  of  the  seven.  No,  no  :  I  say,  as  this  country 
prospers  it  has  more  and  more  need  of  you,  sirs.  It  can  do 
without  a  pack  of  lazy  lords  and  ladies,  but  it  can  never  do 
without  brave  colliers.  And  the  country  will  prosper.  I  pledge 
you  my  word,  sirs,  this  country  will  rise  to  the  tip-top  of  every- 
thing, and  there  is  n't  a  man  in  it  but  what  shall  have  his  joint 
in  the  pot,  and  his  spare  money  jingling  in  his  pocket,  if  we 
only  exert  ourselves  to  send  the  right  men  to  Parliament  — 
men  who  will  speak  up  for  the  collier,  and  the  stone-cutter, 
and  the  navvy"  (Mr.  Johnson  waved  his  hand  liberally), 
"  and  will  stand  no  nonsense.  This  is  a  crisis,  and  we  must 
exert  ourselves.  We  've  got  Reform,  gentlemen,  but  now  the 
thing  is  to  make  Reform  work.  It's  a  crisis — I  pledge  you 
my  word  it 's  a  crisis." 

Mr.  Johnson  threw  himself  back  as  if  from  the  concussion  of 
that  great  noun.  He  did  not  suppose  that  one  of  his  audience 
knew  what  a  crisis  meant ;  but  he  had  large  experience  in  the 
effect  of  uncomprehencled  words  ;  and  in  this  case  the  colliers 
were  thrown  into  a  state  of  conviction  concerning  they  did  not 
know  what,  which  was  a  fine  preparation  for  "  hitting  out,"  or 
any  other  act  carrying  a  due  sequence  to  such  a  conviction. 

Felix  felt  himself  in  danger  of  getting  into  a  rage.  There 
is  hardly  any  mental  misery  worse  than  that  of  having  our 
own  serious  phrases,  our  own  rooted  beliefs,  caricatured  by  a 
charlatan  or  a  hireling.  He  began  to  feel  the  sharp  lower  edge 
of  his  tin  pint-measure,  and  to  think  it  a  tempting  missile. 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  145 

Mr.  Johnson  certainly  had  some  qualifications  as  an  orator. 
After  this  impressive  pause  he  leaned  forward  again,  and  said, 
in  a  lowered  tone,  looking  round  — 

"  I  think  you  all  know  the  good  news." 

There  was  a  movement  of  shoe-soles  on  the  quarried  floor, 
and  a  scrape  of  some  chair  legs,  but  no  other  answer. 

"  The  good  news  I  mean  is,  that  a  first-rate  man,  Mr.  Tran- 
some  of  Transome  Court,  has  offered  himself  to  represent  you 
in  Parliament,  sirs.  I  say  you  in  particular,  for  what  he  has 
at  heart  is  the  welfare  of  the  working  man  —  of  the  brave  fel- 
lows that  wield  the  pickaxe,  and  the  saw,  and  the  hammer. 
He's  rich  —  has  more  money  than  Garstin  —  but  he  doesn't 
want  to  keep  it  to  himself.  What  he  wants  is,  to  make  a  good 
use  of  it,  gentlemen.  He 's  come  back  from  foreign  parts  with 
his  pockets  full  of  gold.  He  could  buy  up  the  Debarrys  if 
they  were  worth  buying,  but  he  's  got  something  better  to  do 
with  his  money.  He  means  to  use  it  for  the  good  of  the 
working  men  in  these  parts.  I  know  there  are  some  men  who 
put  up  for  Parliament  and  talk  a  little  too  big.  They  may 
say  they  want  to  befriend  the  colliers,  for  example.  But  I 
should  like  to  put  a  question  to  them.  I  should  like  to  ask 
them,  '  What  colliers  ? '  There  are  colliers  up  at  Newcastle, 
and  there  are  colliers  down  in  Wales.  Will  it  do  any  good  to 
honest  Tom,  who  is  hungry  in  Sproxton,  to  hear  that  Jack  at 
Newcastle  has  his  bellyful  of  beef  and  pudding  ?  " 

"It  ought  to  do  him  good,"  Felix  burst  in,  with  his  loud 
abrupt  voice,  in  odd  contrast  with  glib  Mr.  Johnson's.  "  If  he 
knows  it 's  a  bad  thing  to  be  hungry  and  not  have  enough  to 
eat,  he  ought  to  be  glad  that  another  fellow,  who  is  not  idle,  is 
not  suffering  in  the  same  way." 

Every  one  was  startled.  The  audience  was  much  impressed 
with  the  grandeur,  the  knowledge,  and  the  power  of  Mr.  John- 
son. His  brilliant  promises  confirmed  the  impression  that  lie- 
form  had  at  length  reached  the  New  Pits ;  and  Keform,  if  it 
were  good  for  anything,  must  at  last  resolve  itself  into  spare 
money  —  meaning  "  sport  "  and  drink,  and  keeping  away  from 
work  for  several  days  in  the  week.  These  "  brave  "  men  of 
Sproxton  liked  Felix  as  one  of  themselves,  only  much  more 

VOL.    III.  10 


146  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  KADICAL. 

knowing  —  as  a  working  man  who  had  seen  many  distant  parts, 
but  who  must  be  very  poor,  since  he  never  drank  more  than  a 
pint  or  so.  They  were  quite  inclined  to  hear  what  he  had  got 
to  say  on  another  occasion,  but  they  were  rather  irritated  by 
his  interruption  at  the  present  moment.  Mr.  Johnson  was 
annoyed,  but  he  spoke  with  the  same  glib  quietness  as  before, 
though  with  an  expression  of  contempt. 

"  I  call  it  a  poor-spirited  thing  to  take  up  a  man's  straight- 
forward words  and  twist  them.  What  I  meant  to  say  was 
plain  enough — that  no  man  can  be  saved  from  starving  by 
looking  on  while  others  eat.  I  think  that 's  common-sense,  eh, 
sirs?" 

There  was  again  an  approving  "  Haw,  haw."  To  hear  any- 
thing said,  and  understand  it,  was  a  stimulus  that  had  the 
effect  of  wit.  Mr.  Chubb  cast  a  suspicious  and  viperous  glance 
at  Felix,  who  felt  that  he  had  been  a  simpleton  for  his  pains. 

"  Well,  then,"  continued  Mr.  Johnson,  "  I  suppose  I  may  go 
on.  But  if  there  is  any  one  here  better  able  to  inform  the 
company  than  I  am,  I  give  way  —  I  give  way." 

"  Sir,"  said  Mr.  Chubb,  magisterially,  "  no  man  shall  take 
the  words  out  of  your  mouth  in  this  house.  And,"  he  added, 
looking  pointedly  at  Felix,  "  company  that 's  got  no  more 
orders  to  give,  and  wants  to  turn  up  rusty  to  them  that  has, 
had  better  be  making  room  than  filling  it.  Love  an'  'armony  's 
the  word  on  our  Club's  flag,  an'  love  an'  'armony  's  the  mean- 
ing of  '  The  Sugar  Loaf,  William  Chubb.'  Folks  of  a  different 
mind  had  better  seek  another  house  of  call." 

"  Very  good,"  said  Felix,  laying  down  his  money  and  taking 
his  cap.  "I'm  going."  He  saw  clearly  enough  that  if  he 
said  more,  there  would  be  a  disturbance  which  could  have  no 
desirable  end. 

When  the  door  had  closed  behind  him,  Mr.  Johnson  said, 
"  What  is  that  person's  name  ?  " 

"Does  anybody  know  it  ? "  said  Mr.  Chubb. 

A  few  noes  were  heard. 

"  I  've  heard  him  speak  like  a  downright  Eeformer,  else  I 
should  have  looked  a  little  sharper  after  him.  But  you  may 
see  he 's  nothing  partic'lar." 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  147 

"  It  looks  rather  bad  that  no  one  knows  his  name,"  said  Mr. 
Johnson.  "  He 's  most  likely  a  Tory  in  disguise  —  a  Tory  spy. 
You  must  be  careful,  sirs,  of  men  who  come  to  you  and  say 
they  're  Radicals,  and  yet  do  nothing  for  you.  They  '11  stuff 
you  with  words  —  no  lack  of  words  —  but  words  are  wind. 
Now,  a  man  like  Transome  comes  forward  and  says  to  the 
working  men  of  this  country  :  '  Hero  I  am,  ready  to  serve  you 
and  to  speak  for  you  in  Parliament,  and  to  get  the  laws  made 
all  right  for  you  ;  and  in  the  meanwhile,  if  there 's  any  of  you 
who  are  my  neighbors  who  want  a  day's  holiday,  or  a  cup  to 
drink  with  friends,  or  a  copy  of  the  King's  likeness  —  why, 
I  'm  your  man.  I  'm  not  a  paper  handbill  —  all  words  and  no 
substance  —  nor  a  man  with  land  and  nothing  else ;  I  've  got 
bags  of  gold  as  well  as  land.'  I  think  you  know  what  I  mean 
by  the  King's  likeness  ?  " 

Here  Mr.  Johnson  took  a  half-crown  out  of  his  pocket  and 
held  the  head  towards  the  company. 

"  Well,  sirs,  there  are  some  men  who  like  to  keep  this  pretty 
picture  a  great  deal  too  much  to  themselves.  I  don't  know 
whether  I  'm  right,  but  I  think  I  've  heard  of  such  a  one  not  a 
hundred  miles  from  here.  I  think  his  name  was  Spratt,  and 
he  managed  some  company's  coal-pits." 

"Haw,  haw  !  Spratt  —  Spratt 's  his  name,"  was  rolled  forth 
to  an  accompaniment  of  scraping  shoe-soles. 

"  A  screwing  fellow,  by  what  I  understand  —  a  domineering 
fellow  —  who  would  expect  men  to  do  as  he  liked  without 
paying  them  for  it.  I  think  there  's  not  an  honest  man  who 
wouldn't  like  to  disappoint  such  an  upstart." 

There  was  a  murmur  which  was  interpreted  by  Mr.  Chubb. 
"I  '11  answer  for  'em,  sir." 

"  Now,  listen  to  me.  Here 's  Garstin :  he 's  one  of  the  Com- 
pany you  work  under.  What 's  Garstin  to  you  ?  who  sees 
him  ?  and  when  they  do  see  him  they  see  a  thin  miserly  fellow 
who  keeps  his  pockets  buttoned.  He  calls  himself  a  Whig, 
yet  he'll  split  votes  with  a  Tory  —  he'll  drive  with  the  De- 
barrys.  Now,  gentlemen,  if  I  said  I  'd  got  a  vote,  and  anybody 
asked  me  what  I  should  do  with  it,  I  should  say,  '  I  '11  plump 
for  Transome.'  You  've  got  no  votes,  and  that 's  a  shame. 


148  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL. 

But  you  will  have  some  day,  if  such  men  as  Transome  are  re- 
turned ;  and  then  you  '11  be  on  a  level  with  the  first  gentleman 
in  the  land,  and  if  he  wants  to  sit  in  Parliament,  he  must  take 
off  his  hat  and  ask  your  leave.  But  though  you  have  n't  got  a 
vote  you  can  give  a  cheer  for  the  right  man,  and  Transome  's 
not  a  man  like  Garstin ;  if  you  lost  a  day's  wages  by  giving  a 
cheer  for  Transome,  he  '11  make  you  amends.  That 's  the  way 
a  man  who  has  no  vote  can  yet  serve  himself  and  his  country  ; 
he  can  lift  up  his  hand  and  shout  ( Transome  forever ! '  — 
'hurray  for  Transome!'  Let  the  working  men  —  let  colliers 
and  navvies  and  stone-cutters,  who  between  you  and  me  have 
a  good  deal  too  much  the  worst  of  it,  as  things  are  now  —  let 
them  join  together  and  give  theii  hands  and  voices  for  the 
right  man,  and  they  '11  make  the  great  people  shake  in  their 
shoes  a  little ;  and  when  you  shout  for  Transome,  remember 
you  shout  for  more  wages,  and  more  of  your  rights,  and  you 
shout  to  get  rid  of  rats  and  sprats  and  such  small  animals,  who 
are  the  tools  the  rich  make  use  of  to  squeeze  the  blood  out  of 
the  poor  man." 

"  I  wish  there  'd  be  a  row  —  I  M  pommel  him,"  said  Dredge, 
who  was  generally  felt  to  be  speaking  to  the  question. 

"  No,  no,  my  friend  —  there  you  're  a  little  wrong.  No  pom- 
melling —  no  striking  first.  There  you  have  the  law  and  the 
constable  against  you.  A  little  rolling  in  the  dust  and  knock- 
ing hats  off,  a  little  pelting  with  soft  things  that  '11  stick  and 
not  bruise  —  all  that  does  n't  spoil  the  fun.  If  a  man  is  to 
speak  when  you  don't  like  to  hear  him,  it  is  but  fair  you  should 
give  him  something  he  does  n't  like  in  return.  And  the  same 
if  he 's  got  a  vote  and  does  n't  use  it  for  the  good  of  the  coun- 
try ;  I  see  no  harm  in  splitting  his  coat  in  a  quiet  way.  A 
man  must  be  taught  what 's  right  if  he  does  n't  know  it.  But 
no  kicks,  no  knocking  down,  no  pommelling." 

"  It  'ud  be  good  fun,  though,  if  so-be"  said  Old  Sleek,  allow- 
ing himself  an  imaginative  pleasure. 

"  Well,  well,  if  a  Spratt  wants  you  to  say  Garstin,  it 's  some 
pleasure  to  think  you  can  say  Transome.  Now,  my  notion  is 
this.  You  are  men  who  can  put  two  and  two  together  —  I 
don't  know  a  more  solid  lot  of  fellows  than  you  are ;  and  what 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  149 

I  say  is,  let  the  honest  men  in  this  country  who  Ve  got  no  vote 
show  themselves  in  a  body  when  they  have  the  chance.  Why, 
sirs,  for  every  Tory  sneak  that 's  got  a  vote,  there 's  fifty-five 
fellows  who  must  stand  by  and  be  expected  to  hold  their 
tongues.  But  I  say,  let  'em  hiss  the  sneaks,  let  'em  groan  at 
the  sneaks,  and  the  sneaks  will  be  ashamed  of  themselves. 
The  men  who  've  got  votes  don't  know  how  to  use  them. 
There  's  many  a  fool  with  a  vote,  who  is  not  sure  in  his  mind 
whether  he  shall  poll,  say  for  Debarry,  or  Garstin,  or  Tran- 
some  —  whether  he  '11  plump  or  whether  he  '11  split ;  a  straw 
will  turn  him.  Let  him  know  your  mind  if  he  does  n't  know 
his  own.  What 's  the  reason  Debarry  gets  returned  ?  Because 
people  are  frightened  at  the  Debarrys.  What 's  that  to  you  ? 
You  don't  care  for  the  Debarrys.  If  people  are  frightened  at 
the  Tories,  we'll  turn  round  and  frighten  them.  You  know 
what  a  Tory  is  —  one  who  wants  to  drive  the  working  men  as 
he  'd  drive  cattle.  That 's  what  a  Tory  is  ;  and  a  Whig  is  no 
better,  if  he 's  like  Garstin.  A  Whig  wants  to  knock  the  Tory 
down  and  get  the  whip,  that 's  all.  But  Transome  's  neither 
Whig  nor  Tory ;  he 's  the  working  man's  friend,  the  collier's 
friend,  the  friend  of  the  honest  navvy.  And  if  he  gets  into 
Parliament,  let  me  tell  you,  it  will  be  the  better  for  you.  I 
don't  say  it  will  be  the  better  for  overlookers  and  screws,  and 
rats  and  sprats  ;  but  it  will  be  the  better  for  every  good  fellow 
who  takes  his  pot  at  the  Sugar  Loaf." 

Mr.  Johnson's  exertions  for  the  political  education  of  the 
Sproxton  men  did  not  stop  here,  which  was  the  more  disinter- 
ested in  him  as  he  did  not  expect  to  see  them  again,  and  could 
only  set  on  foot  an  organization  by  which  their  instruction 
could  be  continued  without  him.  In  this  he  was  quite  success- 
ful. A  man  known  among  the  "  butties "  as  Pack,  who  had 
already  been  mentioned  by  Mr.  Chubb,  presently  joined  the 
party,  and  had  a  private  audience  of  Mr.  Johnson,  that  he 
might  be  instituted  as  the  "  shepherd  "  of  this  new  flock. 

"  That 's  a  right  down  genelman,"  said  Pack,  as  he  took  the 
seat  vacated  by  the  orator,  who  had  ridden  away. 

"What 's  his  trade,  think  you  ?"  said  Gills,  the  wiry  stone- 
cutter. 


150  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL. 

"  Trade  ?  "  said  Mr.  Chubb.  "  He  's  one  of  the  top-sawyers 
of  the  country.  He  works  with  his  head,  you  may  see  that." 

"Let's  have  our  pipes,  then,"  said  Old  Sleek;  "I  'm  pretty 
well  tired  o'  jaw." 

"  So  ain  I,"  said  Dredge.  "  It 's  wriggling  work  —  like  f  ol- 
lering  a  stoat.  It  makes  a  man  dry.  I  'd  as  lief  hear  preach- 
ing, on'y  there's  nought  to  be  got  by't.  I  shouldn't  know 
which  end  I  stood  on  if  it  wasn't  for  the  tickets  and  the 
treatin'." 


CHAPTER  XII. 

"  Oh,  sir,  't  was  that  mixture  of  spite  and  over-fed  merriment  which  passes 
for  humor  with  the  vulgar.  In  their  fun  they  have  much  resemblance  to  a 
turkey-cock.  It  has  a  cruel  beak,  and  a  silly  iteration  of  ugly  sounds ;  it 
spreads  its  tail  in  self-glorification,  but  shows  you  the  wrong  side  of  that  orna- 
ment —  liking  admiration,  but  knowing  not  what  is  admirable." 

THIS  Sunday  evening,  which  promised  to  be  so  memorable 
in  the  experience  of  the  Sproxton  miners,  had  its  drama  also 
for  those  unsatisfactory  objects  to  Mr.  Johnson's  moral  sense, 
the  Debarrys.  Certain  incidents  occurring  at  Treby  Manor 
caused  an  excitement  there  which  spread  from  the  dining-room 
to  the  stables  ;  but  no  one  underwent  such  agitating  transitions 
of  feeling  as  Mr.  Scales.  At  six  o'clock  that  superior  butler 
was  chuckling  in  triumph  at  having  played  a  fine  and  original 
practical  joke  on  his  rival  Mr.  Christian.  Some  two  hours 
after  that  time,  he  was  frightened,  sorry,  and  even  meek ;  he 
was  on  the  brink  of  a  humiliating  confession  ;  his  cheeks  were 
almost  livid ;  his  hair  was  flattened  for  want  of  due  attention 
from  his  fingers  ;  and  the  fine  roll  of  his  whiskers,  which  was 
too  firm  to  give  way,  seemed  only  a  sad  reminiscence  of  past 
splendor  and  felicity.  His  sorrow  came  about  in  this  wise. 

After  service  on  that  Sunday  morning,  Mr.  Philip  Debarry 
had  left  the  rest  of  the  family  to  go  home  in  the  carriage,  and 
had  remained  at  the  Rectory  to  lunch  with  his  uncle  Augustus, 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  151 

that  he  might  consult  him  touching  some  letters  of  importance. 
He  had  returned  the  letters  to  his  pocket-book  but  had  not 
returned  the  book  to  his  pocket,  and  he  finally  walked  away 
leaving  the  enclosure  of  private  papers  and  bank-notes  on  his 
uncle's  escritoire.  After  his  arrival  at  home  he  was  reminded 
of  his  omission,  and  immediately  despatched  Christian  with  a 
note  begging  his  uncle  to  seal  up  the  pocket-book  and  send  it 
by  the  bearer.  This  commission,  which  was  given  between 
three  and  four  o'clock,  happened  to  be  very  unwelcome  to  the 
courier.  The  fact  was  that  Mr.  Christian,  who  had  been  re- 
markable through  life  for  that  power  of  adapting  himself  to 
circumstances  which  enables  a  man  to  fall  safely  on  all-fours 
in  the  most  hurried  expulsions  and  escapes,  was  not  exempt 
from  bodily  suffering  —  a  circumstance  to  which  there  is  no 
known  way  of  adapting  one's  self  so  as  to  be  perfectly  comfort- 
able under  it,  or  to  push  it  off  on  to  other  people's  shoulders. 
He  did  what  he  could :  he  took  doses  of  opium  when  he  had 
an  access  of  nervous  pains,  and  he  consoled  himself  as  to  future 
possibilities  by  thinking  that  if  the  pains  ever  became  intoler- 
ably frequent  a  considerable  increase  in  the  dose  might  put 
an  end  to  them  altogether.  He  was  neither  Cato  nor  Hamlet, 
and  though  he  had  learned  their  soliloquies  at  his  first  boarding- 
school,  he  would  probably  have  increased  his  dose  without 
reciting  those  masterpieces.  Next  to  the  pain  itself  he  dis- 
liked that  any  one  should  know  of  it :  defective  health  dimin- 
ished a  man's  market  value ;  he  did  not  like  to  be  the  object 
of  the  sort  of  pity  he  himself  gave  to  a  poor  devil  who  was 
forced  to  make  a  wry  face  or  "  give  in  "  altogether. 

He  had  felt  it  expedient  to  take  a  slight  dose  this  afternoon, 
and  still  he  was  not  altogether  relieved  at  the  time  he  set  off 
to  the  Kectory.  On  returning  with  the  valuable  case  safely 
deposited  in  his  hind  pocket,  he  felt  increasing  bodily  uneasi- 
ness, and  took  another  dose.  Thinking  it  likely  that  he 
looked  rather  pitiable,  he  chose  not  to  proceed  to  the  house  by 
the  carriage-road.  The  servants  often  walked  in  the  park  on 
a  Sunday,  and  he  wished  to  avoid  any  meeting.  He  would 
make  a  circuit,  get  into  the  house  privately,  and  after  deliver- 
ing his  packet  to  Mr.  Debarry,  shut  himself  up  till  the  ringing 


152  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  EADICAL. 

of  the  half-hour  bell.  But  when  he  reached  an  elbowed  seat 
under  some  sycamores,  he  felt  so  ill  at  ease  that  he  yielded  to 
the  temptation  of  throwing  himself  on  it  to  rest  a  little.  He 
looked  at  his  watch  :  it  was  but  five ;  he  had  done  his  errand 
quickly  hitherto,  and  Mr.  Debarry  had  not  urged  haste.  But 
in  less  than  ten  minutes  he  was  in  a  sound  sleep.  Certain 
conditions  of  his  system  had  determined  a  stronger  effect 
than  usual  from  the  opium. 

As  he  had  expected,  there  were  servants  strolling  in  the 
park,  but  they  did  not  all  choose  the  most  frequented  part. 
Mr.  Scales,  in  pursuit  of  a  slight  flirtation  with  the  younger 
lady's  maid,  had  preferred  a  more  seqiiestered  walk  in  the 
company  of  that  agreeable  nymph.  And  it  happened  to  be 
this  pair,  of  all  others,  who  alighted  on  the  sleeping  Christian 
—  a  sight  which  at  the  very  first  moment  caused  Mr.  Scales  a 
vague  pleasure  as  at  an  incident  that  must  lead  to  something 
clever  on  his  part.  To  play  a  trick,  and  make  some  one  or 
other  look  foolish,  was  held  the  most  pointed  form  of  wit 
throughout  the  back  regions  of  the  Manor,  and  served  as  a 
constant  substitute  for  theatrical  entertainment :  what  the 
farce  wanted  in  costume  or  "  make-up  "  it  gained  in  the  reality 
of  the  mortification  which  excited  the  general  laughter.  And 
lo !  here  was  the  offensive,  the  exasperatingly  cool  and  supe- 
rior, Christian  caught  comparatively  helpless,  with  his  head 
hanging  on  his  shoulder,  and  one  coat-tail  hanging  out  heavily 
below  the  elbow  of  the  rustic  seat.  It  was  this  coat-tail  which 
served  as  a  suggestion  to  Mr.  Scales's  genius.  Putting  his 
finger  up  in  warning  to  Mrs.  Cherry,  and  saying,  "Hush  — 
be  quiet  —  I  see  a  fine  bit  of  fun  "  —  he  took  a  knife  from 
his  pocket,  stepped  behind  the  unconscious  Christian,  and 
quickly  cut  off  the  pendant  coat-tail.  Scales  knew  nothing  of 
the  errand  to  the  Rectory ;  and  as  he  noticed  that  there  was 
something  in  the  pocket,  thought  it  was  probably  a  large 
cigar-case.  So  much  the  better  —  he  had  no  time  to  pause. 
He  threw  the  coat-tail  as  far  as  he  could,  and  noticed  that  it 
fell  among  the  elms  under  which  they  had  been  walking. 
Then,  beckoning  to  Mrs.  Cherry,  he  hurried  away  with  her 
towards  the  more  open  part  of  the  park,  not  daring  to  explode 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  153 

in  laughter  until  it  was  safe  from  the  chance  of  waking  the 
sleeper.  And  then  the  vision  of  the  graceful  well-appointed 
Mr.  Christian,  who  sneered  at  Scales  about  his  "  get  up,"  hav- 
ing to  walk  back  to  the  house  with  only  one  tail  to  his  coat, 
was  a  source  of  so  much  enjoyment  to  the  butler,  that  the  fair 
Cherry  began  to  be  quite  jealous  of  the  joke.  Still  she  ad- 
mitted that  it  really  was  funny,  tittered  intermittently,  and 
pledged  herself  to  secrecy.  Mr.  Scales  explained  to  her  that 
Christian  would  try  to  creep  in  unobserved,  but  that  this  must 
be  made  impossible ;  and  he  requested  her  to  imagine  the 
figure  this  interloping  fellow  would  cut  when  everybody  was 
asking  what  had  happened.  "  Hallo,  Christian !  where 's  your 
coat  tail  ?  "  would  become  a  proverb  at  the  Manor,  where 
jokes  kept  remarkably  well  without  the  aid  of  salt ;  and  Mr. 
Christian's  comb  would  be  cut  so  effectually  that  it  would 
take  a  long  time  to  grow  again.  Exit  Scales,  laughing,  and 
presenting  a  fine  example  of  dramatic  irony  to  any  one  in  the 
secret  of  Fate. 

When  Christian  awoke,  he  was  shocked  to  find  himself  in 
the  twilight.  He  started  up,  shook  himself,  missed  something, 
and  soon  became  aware  what  it  was  he  missed.  He  did  not 
doubt  that  he  had  been  robbed,  and  he  at  once  foresaw  that 
the  consequences  would  be  highly  unpleasant.  In  no  way 
could  the  cause  of  the  accident  be  so  represented  to  Mr.  Philip 
Debarry  as  to  prevent  him  from  viewing  his  hitherto  unim- 
peachable factotum  in  a  new  and  unfavorable  light.  And 
though  Mr.  Christian  did  not  regard  his  present  position  as 
brilliant,  he  did  not  see  his  way  to  anything  better.  A  man 
nearly  fifty  who  is  not  always  quite  well  is  seldom  ardently 
hopeful :  he  is  aware  that  this  is  a  world  in  which  merit  is 
often  overlooked.  With  the  idea  of  robbery  in  full  possession 
of  his  mind,  to  peer  about  and  search  in  the  dimness,  even  if 
it  had  occurred  to  him,  would  have  seemed  a  preposterous 
waste  of  time  and  energy.  He  knew  it  was  likely  that  Mr. 
Debarry's  pocket-book  had  important  and  valuable  contents, 
and  that  he  should  deepen  his  offence  by  deferring  his  an- 
nouncement of  the  unfortunate  fact.  He  hastened  back  to  the 
house,  relieved  by  the  obscurity  from  that  mortification  of  his 


154  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL. 

vanity  on  which  the  butler  had  counted.  Indeed,  to  Scales 
himself  the  affair  had  already  begun  to  appear  less  thoroughly 
jocose  than  he  had  anticipated.  For  he  observed  that  Chris- 
tian's non-appearance  before  dinner  had  caused  Mr.  Debarry 
some  consternation ;  and  he  had  gathered  that  the  courier  had 
been  sent  on  a  commission  to  the  Kectory.  "  My  uncle  must 
have  detained  him  for  some  reason  or  other,"  he  heard  Mr. 
Philip  say ;  "  but  it  is  odd.  If  he  were  less  trusty  about 
commissions,  or  had  ever  seemed  to  drink  too  much,  I  should 
be  uneasy."  Altogether  the  affair  was  not  taking  the  turn  Mr. 
Scales  had  intended.  At  last,  when  dinner  had  been  removed, 
and  the  butler's  chief  duties  were  at  an  end,  it  was  understood 
that  Christian  had  entered  without  his  coat-tail,  looking 
serious  and  even  agitated  ;  that  he  had  asked  leave  at  once  to 
speak  to  Mr.  Debarry ;  and  that  he  was  even  then  in  parley 
with  the  gentlemen  in  the  dining-room.  Scales  was  in  alarm  ; 
it  must  have  been  some  property  of  Mr.  Debarry's  that  had 
weighted  the  pocket.  He  took  a  lantern,  got  a  groom  to 
accompany  him  with  another  lantern,  and  with  the  utmost 
practicable  speed  reached  the  fatal  spot  in  the  park.  He 
searched  under  the  elms  —  he  was  certain  that  the  pocket  had 
fallen  there  —  and  he  found  the  pocket ;  but  he  found  it 
empty,  and,  in  spite  of  further  search,  did  not  find  the  con- 
tents, though  he  had  at  first  consoled  himself  with  thinking 
that  they  had  fallen  out,  and  would  be  lying  not  far  off.  He 
returned  with  the  lanterns  and  the  coat-tail  and  a  most  uncom- 
fortable consciousness  in  that  great  seat  of  a  butler's  emotion, 
the  stomach.  He  had  no  sooner  re-entered  than  he  was  met 
by  Mrs.  Cherry,  pale  and  anxious,  who  drew  him  aside  to  say 
that  if  he  did  n't  tell  everything  she  would  ;  that  the  con- 
stables were  to  be  sent  for ;  that  there  had  been  no  end  of 
bank-notes  and  letters  and  things  in  Mr.  Debarry's  pocket- 
book,  which  Christian  was  carrying  in  that  very  pocket  Scales 
had  cut  off ;  that  the  Kector  was  sent  for,  the  constable  was 
coming,  and  they  should  all  be  hanged.  Mr.  Scales's  own  in- 
tellect was  anything  but  clear  as  to  the  possible  issues.  Crest- 
fallen, and  with  the  coat-tail  in  his  hands  as  an  attestation 
that  he  was  innocent  of  anything  more  than  a  joke,  he  went 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  155 

and  made  his  confession.  His  story  relieved  Christian  a  little, 
but  did  not  relieve  Mr.  Debarry,  who  was  more  annoyed  at 
the  loss  of  the  letters,  and  the  chance  of  their  getting  into 
hands  that  might  make  use  of  them,  than  at  the  loss  of  the 
bank-notes.  Nothing  could  be  done  for  the  present,  but  that 
the  Hector,  who  was  a  magistrate,  should  instruct  the  con- 
stables, and  that  the  spot  in  the  park  indicated  by  Scales 
should  again  be  carefully  searched.  This  was  done,  but  in 
vain;  and  many  of  the  family  at  the  Manor  had  disturbed 
sleep  that  night. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

Give  sorrow  leave  awhile,  to  tutor  me 
To  this  submission.  —  Richard  II. 

MEANWHILE  Felix  Holt  had  been  making  his  way  back  from 
Sproxton  to  Treby  in  some  irritation  and  bitterness  of  spirit. 
For  a  little  while  he  walked  slowly  along  the  direct  road,  hop- 
ing that  Mr.  Johnson  would  overtake  him,  in  which  case  he 
would  have  the  pleasure  of  quarrelling  with  him,  and  telling 
him  what  he  thought  of  his  intentions  in  coming  to  cant  at 
the  Sugar  Loaf.  But  he  presently  checked  himself  in  this 
folly  and  turned  off  again  towards  the  canal,  that  he  might 
avoid  the  temptation  of  getting  into  a  passion  to  no  purpose. 

"  Where  's  the  good,"  he  thought,  "  of  pulling  at  such  a  tan- 
gled skein  as  this  electioneering  trickery  ?  As  long  as  three- 
fourths  of  the  men  in  this  country  see  nothing  in  an  election 
but  self-interest,  and  nothing  in  self-interest  but  some  form  of 
greed,  one  might  as  well  try  to  purify  the  proceedings  of  the 
fishes,  and  say  to  a  hungry  codfish  — '  My  good  friend,  abstain ; 
don't  goggle  your  eyes  so,  or  show  such  a  stupid  gluttonous 
mouth,  or  think  the  little  fishes  are  worth  nothing  except  in 
relation  to  your  own  inside.'  He  'd  be  open  to  no  argument 
short  of  crimping  him.  I  should  get  into  a  rage  with  this  fel- 
low, and  perhaps  end  by  thrashing  him.  There 's  some  reason 


156  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

in  me  as  long  as  I  keep  my  temper,  but  my  rash  humor  is 
drunkenness  without  wine.  I  should  n't  wonder  if  he  upsets 
all  my  plans  with  these  colliers.  Of  course  he  's  going  to 
treat  them  for  the  sake  of  getting  up  a  posse  at  the  nomina- 
tion and  speechifyings.  They  '11  drink  double,  and  never  come 
near  me  on  a  Saturday  evening.  I  don't  know  what  sort  of 
man  Transoine  really  is.  It 's  no  use  my  speaking  to  anybody 
else,  but  if  I  could  get  at  him,  he  might  put  a  veto  on  this 
thing.  Though,  when  once  the  men  have  been  promised  and 
set  agoing,  the  mischief  is  likely  to  be  past  mending.  Hang 
the  Liberal  codfish  !  I  should  n't  have  minded  so  much  if  he  'd 
been  a  Tory  !  " 

Felix  went  along  in  the  twilight  struggling  in  this  way  with 
the  intricacies  of  life,  which  would  certainly  be  greatly  simpli- 
fied if  corrupt  practices  were  the  invariable  mark  of  wrong 
opinions.  When  he  had  crossed  the  common  and  had  entered 
the  park,  the  overshadowing  trees  deepened  the  gray  gloom  of 
the  evening ;  it  was  useless  to  try  and  keep  the  blind  path, 
and  he  could  only  be  careful  that  his  steps  should  be  bent  in 
the  direction  of  the  park-gate.  He  was  striding  along  rapidly 
now,  whistling  "  Bannockburn "  in  a  subdued  way  as  an  ac- 
companiment to  his  inward  discussion,  when  something  smooth 
and  soft  on  which  his  foot  alighted  arrested  him  with  an  un- 
pleasant startling  sensation,  and  made  him  stoop  to  examine 
the  object  he  was  treading  on.  He  found  it  to  be  a  large 
leather  pocket-book  swelled  by  its  contents,  and  fastened  with 
a  sealed  ribbon  as  well  as  a  clasp.  In  stooping  he  saw  about 
a  yard  off  something  whitish  and  square  lying  on  the  dark 
grass.  This  was  an  ornamental  note-book  of  pale  leather 
stamped  with  gold.  Apparently  it  had  burst  open  in  falling, 
and  out  of  the  pocket,  formed  by  the  cover,  there  protruded  a 
small  gold  chain  about  four  inches  long,  with  various  seals  and 
other  trifles  attached  to  it  by  a  ring  at  the  end.  Felix  thrust 
the  chain  back,  and  finding  that  the  clasp  of  the  note-book  was 
broken,  he  closed  it  and  thrust  it  into  his  side-pocket,  walking 
along  under  some  annoyance  that  fortune  had  made  him  the 
finder  of  articles  belonging  most  probably  to  one  of  the  family 
at  Treby  Manor.  He  was  much  too  proud  a  man  to  like  any 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  157 

contact  with  the  aristocracy,  and  he  could  still  less  endure 
coming  within  speech  of  their  servants.  Some  plan  must  be 
devised  by  which  he  could  avoid  carrying  these  things  up  to 
the  Manor  himself :  he  thought  at  first  of  leaving  them  at  the 
lodge,  but  he  had  a  scruple  against  placing  property,  of  which 
the  ownership  was  after  all  uncertain,  in  the  hands  of  persons 
unknown  to  him.  It  was  possible  that  the  large  pocket-book 
contained  papers  of  high  importance,  and  that  it  did  not  be- 
long to  any  of  the  Debarry  family.  He  resolved  at  last  to 
carry  his  findings  to  Mr.  Lyon,  who  would  perhaps  be  good- 
natured  enough  to  save  him  from  the  necessary  transactions 
with  the  people  at  the  Manor  by  undertaking  those  trans- 
actions himself.  With  this  determination  he  walked  straight 
to  Malthouse  Yard,  and  waited  outside  the  chapel  until  the 
congregation  was  dispersing,  when  he  passed  along  the  aisle 
to  the  vestry  in  order  to  speak  to  the  minister  in  private. 

But  Mr.  Lyon  was  not  alone  when  Felix  entered.  Mr.  Nutt- 
wood,  the  grocer,  who  was  one  of  the  deacons,  was  complaining 
to  him  about  the  obstinate  demeanor  of  the  singers,  who  had 
declined  to  change  the  tunes  in  accordance  with  a  change  in 
the  selection  of  hymns,  and  had  stretched  short  metre  into 
long  out  of  pure  wilfulness  and  defiance,  irreverently  adapting 
the  most  sacred  monosyllables  to  a  multitude  of  wandering 
quavers,  arranged,  it  was  to  be  feared,  by  some  musician  wrho 
was  inspired  by  conceit  rather  than  by  the  true  spirit  of 
psalmody. 

"  Come  in,  my  friend,"  said  Mr.  Lyon,  smiling  at  Felix,  and 
then  continuing  in  a  faint  voice,  while  he  wiped  the  perspira- 
tion from  his  brow  and  bald  crown,  "  Brother  Xuttwood,  we 
must  be  content  to  carry  a  thorn  in  our  sides  while  the  necessi- 
ties of  our  imperfect  state  demand  that  there  should  be  a  body 
set  apart  and  called  a  choir,  whose  special  office  it  is  to  lead 
the  singing,  not  because  they  are  more  disposed  to  the  devout 
uplifting  of  praise,  but  because  they  are  endowed  with  better 
vocal  organs,  and  have  attained  more  of  the  musician's  art. 
For  all  office,  unless  it  be  accompanied  by  peculiar  grace,  be- 
comes, as  it  were,  a  diseased  organ,  seeking  to  make  itself  too 
much  of  a  centre.  Singers,  specially  so  called,  are,  it  must  be 


158  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL. 

confessed,  an  anomaly  among  us  who  seek  to  reduce  the  Church 
to  its  primitive  simplicity,  and  to  cast  away  all  that  may  ob- 
struct the  direct  communion  of  spirit  with  spirit." 

"  They  are  so  headstrong,"  said  Mr.  Nuttwood,  in  a  tone  of 
sad  perplexity,  "  that  if  we  dealt  not  warily  with  them,  they 
might  end  in  dividing  the  church,  even  now  that  we  have  had 
the  chapel  enlarged.  Brother  Kemp  would  side  with  them, 
and  draw  the  half  part  of  the  members  after  him.  I  cannot 
but  think  it  a  snare  when  a  professing  Christian  has  a  bass 
voice  like  Brother  Kemp's.  It  makes  him  desire  to  be  heard 
of  men ;  but  the  weaker  song  of  the  humble  may  have  more 
power  in  the  ear  of  God." 

"  Do  you  think  it  any  better  vanity  to  flatter  yourself  that 
God  likes  to  hear  you,  though  men  don't  ?  "  said  Felix,  with 
unwarrantable  bluntness. 

The  civil  grocer  was  prepared  to  be  scandalized  by  anything 
that  came  from  Felix.  In  common  with  many  hearers  in  Malt- 
house  Yard,  he  already  felt  an  objection  to  a  young  man  who 
was  notorious  for  having  interfered  in  a  question  of  wholesale 
and  retail,  which  should  have  been  left  to  Providence.  Old 
Mr.  Holt,  being  a  church  member,  had  probably  had  "lead- 
ings "  which  were  more  to  be  relied  on  than  his  son's  boasted 
knowledge.  In  any  case,  a  little  visceral  disturbance  and  in- 
ward chastisement  to  the  consumers  of  questionable  medicines 
would  tend  less  to  obscure  the  divine  glory  than  a  show  of 
punctilious  morality  in  one  who  was  not  a  "  professor."  Be- 
sides, how  was  it  to  be  known  that  the  medicines  would  not 
be  blessed,  if  taken  with  due  trust  in  a  higher  influence  ?  A 
Christian  must  consider  not  the  medicines  alone  in  their  rela- 
tion to  our  frail  bodies  (which  are  dust),  but  the  medicines 
with  Omnipotence  behind  them.  Hence  a  pious  vendor  will 
look  for  "  leadings,"  and  he  is  likely  to  find  them  in  the  cessa- 
tion of  demand  and  the  disproportion  of  expenses  and  returns. 
The  grocer  was  thus  on  his  guard  against  the  presumptuous 
disputant. 

"Mr.  Lyon  may  understand  you,  sir,"  he  replied.  "  He  seems 
to  be  fond  of  your  conversation.  But  you  have  too  much  of  the 
pride  of  human  learning  for  me.  I  follow  no  new  lights." 


FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL.  159 

"Then  follow  an  old  one,"  said  Felix,  mischievously  disposed 
towards  a  sleek  tradesman.  "  Follow  the  light  of  the  old- 
fashioned  Presbyterians  that  I  've  heard  sing  at  Glasgow.  The 
preacher  gives  out  the  psalm,  and  then  everybody  sings  a  dif- 
ferent tune,  as  it  happens  to  turn  up  in  their  throats.  It 's  a 
domineering  thing  to  set  a  tune  and  expect  everybody  else  to 
follow  it.  It's  a  denial  of  private  judgment." 

"  Hush,  hush,  my  young  friend,"  said  Mr.  Lyon,  hurt  by  this 
levity,  which  glanced  at  himself  as  well  as  at  the  deacon. 
"  Play  not  with  paradoxes.  That  caustic  which  you  handle  in 
order  to  scorch  others,  may  happen  to  sear  your  own  fingers 
and  make  them  dead  to  the  quality  of  tilings.  'T  is  difficult 
enough  to  see  our  way  and  keep  our  torch  steady  in  this  dim 
labyrinth :  to  whirl  the  torch  and  dazzle  the  eyes  of  our  fel- 
low-seekers is  a  poor  daring,  and  may  end  in  total  darkness. 
You  yourself  are  a  lover  of  freedom,  and  a  bold  rebel  against 
usurping  authority.  But  the  right  to  rebellion  is  the  right  to 
seek  a  higher  rule,  and  not  to  wander  in  mere  lawlessness. 
Wherefore,  I  beseech  you,  seem  not  to  say  that  liberty  is  li- 
cense. And  I  apprehend  —  though  I  am  not  endowed  with  an 
ear  to  seize  those  earthly  harmonies,  which  to  some  devout 
souls  have  seemed,  as  it  were,  the  broken  echoes  of  the  heav- 
enly choir  —  I  apprehend  that  there  is  a  law  in  music,  disobe- 
dience whereunto  would  bring  us  in  our  singing  to  the  level 
of  shrieking  maniacs  or  howling  beasts  :  so  that  herein  we  are 
well  instructed  how  true  liberty  can  be  nought  but  the  transfer 
of  obedience  from  the  will  of  one  or  of  a  few  men  to  that  will 
which  is  the  norm  or  rule  for  all  men.  And  though  the  transfer 
may  sometimes  be  but  an  erroneous  direction  of  search,  yet  is 
the  search  good  and  necessary  to  the  ultimate  finding.  And 
even  as  in  music,  where  all  obey  and  concur  to  one  end,  so  that 
each  has  the  joy  of  contributing  to  a  whole  whereby  he  is  rav- 
ished and  lifted  up  into  the  courts  of  heaven,  so  will  it  be  in 
that  crowning  time  of  the  millennial  reign,  when  our  daily 
prayer  will  be  fulfilled,  and  one  law  shall  be  written  on  all 
hearts,  and  be  the  very  structure  of  all  thought,  and  be  the 
principle  of  all  action." 

Tired,  even  exhausted,  as  the  minister  had  been  when  Felix 


160  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL. 

Holt  entered,  the  gathering  excitement  of  speech  gave  more 
and  more  energy  to  his  voice  and  manner ;  he  walked  away 
from  the  vestry  table,  he  paused,  and  came  back  to  it;  he 
walked  away  again,  then  came  back,  and  ended  with  his  deep- 
est-toned largo,  keeping  his  hands  clasped  behind  him,  while 
his  brown  eyes  were  bright  with  the  lasting  youthfulness  of 
enthusiastic  thought  and  love.  But  to  any  one  who  had  no 
share  in  the  energies  that  were  thrilling  his  little  body,  he 
would  have  looked  queer  enough.  No  sooner  had  he  finished 
his  eager  speech,  than  he  held  out  his  hand  to  the  deacon, 
and  said,  in  his  former  faint  tone  of  fatigue  — 

"  God  be  with  you,  brother.  We  shall  meet  to-morrow,  and 
we  will  see  what  can  be  done  to  subdue  these  refractory 
spirits." 

When  the  deacon  was  gone,  Felix  said,  "Forgive  me,  Mr. 
Lyon ;  I  was  wrong,  and  you  are  right." 

"Yes,  yes,  my  friend  ;  you  have  that  mark  of  grace  within 
you,  that  you  are  ready  to  acknowledge  the  justice  of  a  rebuke. 
Sit  down ;  you  have  something  to  say  —  some  packet  there." 

They  sat  down  at  a  corner  of  the  small  table,  and  Felix  drew 
the  note-book  from  his  pocket  to  lay  it  down  with  the  pocket- 
book,  saying  — 

"  I  've  had  the  ill-luck  to  be  the  finder  of  these  things  in  the 
Debarrys'  Park.  Most  likely  they  belong  to  one  of  the  family 
at  the  Manor,  or  to  some  grandee  who  is  staying  there.  I  hate 
having  anything  to  do  with  such  people.  They'll  think  me  a 
poor  rascal,  and  offer  me  money.  You  are  a  known  man,  and 
I  thought  you  would  be  kind  enough  to  relieve  me  by  taking 
charge  of  these  things,  and  writing  to  Debarry,  not  mentioning 
me,  and  asking  him  to  send  some  one  for  them.  I  found  them 
on  the  grass  in  the  park  this  evening  about  half-past  seven,  in 
the  corner  we  cross  going  to  Sproxton." 

"  Stay,"  said  Mr.  Lyon,  "  this  little  book  is  open ;  we  may 
venture  to  look  in  it  for  some  sign  of  ownership.  There  be 
others  who  possess  property,  and  might  be  crossing  that  end  of 
the  park,  besides  the  Debarrys." 

As  he  lifted  the  note-book  close  to  his  eyes,  the  chain  again 
slipped  out.  He  arrested  it  and  held  it  in  his  hand,  while  he 


FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL.  161 

examined  some  writing,  which  appeared  to  be  a  name  on  the 
inner  leather.  He  looked  long,  as  if  he  were  trying  to  decipher 
something  that  was  partly  rubbed  out ;  and  his  hands  began 
to  tremble  noticeably.  He  made  a  movement  in  an  agitated 
manner,  as  if  he  were  going  to  examine  the  chain  and  seals, 
which  he  held  in  his  hand.  But  he  checked  himself,  closed 
his  hand  again,  and  rested  it  on  the  table,  while  with  the  other 
hand  he  pressed  the  sides  of  the  note-book  together. 

Felix  observed  his  agitation,  and  was  much  surprised ;  but 
with  a  delicacy  of  which  he  was  capable  under  all  his  abrupt- 
ness, he  said,  "You  are  overcome  with  fatigue,  sir.  I  was 
thoughtless  to  tease  you  with  these  matters  at  the  end  of  Sun- 
day, when  you  have  been  preaching  three  sermons." 

Mr.  Lyon  did  not  speak  for  a  few  moments,  but  at  last  he 
said  — 

"  It  is  true.  I  am  overcome.  It  was  a  name  I  saw  —  a  name 
that  called  up  a  past  sorrow.  Fear  not;  I  will  do  what  is 
needful  with  these  things.  You  may  trust  them  to  me." 

With  trembling  fingers  he  replaced  the  chain,  and  tied  both 
the  large  pocket-book  and  the  note-book  in  his  handkerchief. 
He  was  evidently  making  a  great  effort  over  himself.  But 
when  he  had  gathered  the  knot  of  the  handkerchief  in  his 
hand,  he  said  — 

"  Give  me  your  arm  to  the  door,  my  friend.  I  feel  ill. 
Doubtless  I  am  over-wearied." 

The  door  was  already  open,  and  Lyddy  was  watching  for  her 
master's  return.  Felix  therefore  said  Good-night  and  passed 
on,  sure  that  this  was  what  Mr.  Lyon  would  prefer.  The  min- 
ister's supper  of  warm  porridge  was  ready  by  the  kitchen  fire, 
where  he  always  took  it  on  a  Sunday  evening,  and  afterwards 
smoked  his  weekly  pipe  up  the  broad  chimney  —  the  one  great 
relaxation  he  allowed  himself.  Smoking,  he  considered,  was 
a  recreation  of  the  travailed  spirit,  which,  if  indulged  in,  might 
endear  this  world  to  us  by  the  ignoble  bonds  of  mere  sensuous 
ease.  Daily  smoking  might  be  lawful,  but  it  was  not  expe- 
dient. And  in  this  Esther  concurred  with  a  doctrinal  eager- 
ness that  was  unusual  in  her.  It  was  her  habit  to  go  to  her 
own  room,  professedly  to  bed,  very  early  on  Sundays  —  irnme- 

VOL.    III.  11 


162  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL. 

diately  on  her  return  from  chapel  —  that  she  might  avoid  her 
father's  pipe.  But  this  evening  she  had  remained  at  home, 
under  a  true  plea  of  not  feeling  well ;  and  when  she  heard  him 
enter,  she  ran  out  of  the  parlor  to  meet  him. 

"Father,  you  are  ill,"  she  said,  as  he  tottered  to  the  wicker- 
bottomed  arm-chair,  while  Lyddy  stood  by,  shaking  her  head. 

"No,  my  dear,"  he  answered  feebly,  as  she  took  off  his  hat 
and  looked  in  his  face  inquiringly ;  "  I  am  weary." 

"  Let  me  lay  these  things  down  for  you,"  said  Esther,  touch- 
ing the  bundle  in  the  handkerchief. 

"  No ;  they  are  matters  which  I  have  to  examine,"  he  said, 
laying  them  on  the  table,  and  putting  his  arm  across  them. 
"  Go  you  to  bed,  Lyddy." 

"  Not  me,  sir.  If  ever  a  man  looked  as  if  he  was  struck 
with  death,  it  Js  you,  this  very  night  as  here  is." 

"  Nonsense,  Lyddy,"  said  Esther,  angrily.  "  Go  to  bed  when 
my  father  desires  it.  I  will  stay  with  him." 

Lyddy  was  electrified  by  surprise  at  this  new  behavior  of 
Miss  Esther's.  She  took  her  candle  silently  and  went. 

"  Go  you  too,  my  dear,"  said  Mr.  Lyoii,  tenderly,  giving  his 
hand  to  Esther,  when  Lyddy  was  gone.  "  It  is  your  wont  to 
go  early.  Why  are  you  up  ?  " 

"  Let  me  lift  your  porridge  from  before  the  fire,  and  stay 
with  you,  father.  You  think  I  'm  so  naughty  that  I  don't  like 
doing  anything  for  you,"  said  Esther,  smiling  rather  sadly  at 
him. 

"  Child,  what  has  happened  ?  you  have  become  the  image  of 
your  mother  to-night,"  said  the  minister,  in  a  loud  whisper. 
The  tears  came  and  relieved  him,  while  Esther,  who  had 
stooped  to  lift  the  porridge  from  the  fender,  paused  on  one 
knee  and  looked  up  at  him. 

"  She  was  very  good  to  you  ?  "  asked  Esther,  softly. 

"  Yes,  dear.  She  did  not  reject  my  affection.  She  thought 
not  scorn  of  my  love.  She  would  have  forgiven  me,  if  I  had 
erred  against  her,  from  very  tenderness.  Could  you  forgive 
me,  child?" 

"  Father,  I  have  not  been  good  to  you ;  but  I  will  be,  I  will 
be,"  said  Esther,  laying  her  head  on  his  knee. 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  163 

He  kissed  her  head.  "Go  to  bed,  my  dear;  I  would  be 
alone." 

When  Esther  was  lying  down  that  night,  she  felt  as  if  the 
little  incidents  between  herself  and  her  father  on  this  Sunday 
had  made  it  an  epoch.  Very  slight  words  and  deeds  may  have 
a  sacramental  efficacy,  if  we  can  cast  our  self-love  behind  us, 
in  order  to  say  or  do  them.  And  it  has  been  well  believed 
through  many  ages  that  the  beginning  of  compunction  is  the 
beginning  of  a  new  life ;  that  the  mind  which  sees  itself 
blameless  may  be  called  dead  in  trespasses  —  in  trespasses 
on  the  love  of  others,  in  trespasses  on  their  weakness,  in 
trespasses  on  all  those  great  claims  which  are  the  image  of 
our  own  need. 

But  Esther  persisted  in  assuring  herself  that  she  was  not 
bending  to  any  criticism  from  Felix.  She  was  full  of  resent- 
ment against  his  rudeness,  and  yet  more  against  his  too  harsh 
conception  of  her  character.  She  was  determined  to  keep  as 
much  at  a  distance  from  him  as  possible. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

This  man  's  metallic ;  at  a  sudden  blow 
His  soul  rings  hard.    I  cannot  lay  my  palm, 
Trembling  with  life,  upon  that  jointed  brass. 
I  shudder  at  the  cold  unanswering  touch  ; 
But  if  it  press  me  in  response,  I  'm  bruised. 

THE  next  morning,  when  the  Debarrys,  including  the  Rector, 
who  had  ridden  over  to  the  Manor  early,  were  still  seated  at 
breakfast,  Christian  came  in  with  a  letter,  saying  that  it  had 
been  brought  by  a  man  employed  at  the  chapel  in  Malthouse 
Yard,  who  had  been  ordered  by  the  minister  to  use  all  speed 
and  care  in  the  delivery. 

The  letter  was  addressed  to  Sir  Maximus. 

"  Stay,  Christian,  it  may  possibly  refer  to  the  lost  pocket- 
book,"  said  Philip  Debarry,  who  was  beginning  to  feel  rather 


164  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  KADICAL. 

sorry  for  his  factotum,  as  a  reaction  from  previous  suspicions 
and  indignation. 

Sir  Maximus  opened  the  letter  and  felt  for  his  glasses,  but 
then  said,  "  Here,  you  read  it,  Phil :  the  man  writes  a  hand 
like  small  print." 

Philip  cast  his  eyes  over  it,  and  then  read  aloud  in  a  tone  of 
satisfaction :  — 

SIR,  —  I  send  this  letter  to  apprise  you  that  I  have  now  in  my  pos- 
session certain  articles,  which,  last  evening,  at  about  half-past  seven 
o'clock,  were  found  lying  on  the  grass  at  the  western  extremity  of 
your  park.  The  articles  are  —  1°,  a  well-filled  pocket-book,  of  brown 
leather,  fastened  with  a  black  ribbon  and  with  a  seal  of  red  wax;  2°, 
a  small  note-book,  covered  with  gilded  vellum,  whereof  the  clasp  was 
burst,  and  from  out  whereof  had  partly  escaped  a  small  gold  chain, 
with  seals  and  a  locket  attached,  the  locket  bearing  on  the  back  a 
device,  and  round  the  face  a  female  name. 

Wherefore  I  request  that  you  will  further  my  effort  to  place  these 
articles  in  the  right  hands,  by  ascertaining  whether  any  person  within 
your  walls  claims  them  as  his  property,  and  by  sending  that  person  to 
me  (if  such  be  found) ;  for  I  will  on  no  account  let  them  pass  from  my 
care  save  into  that  of  one  who,  declaring  himself  to  be  the  owner,  can 
state  to  me  what  is  the  impression  on  the  seal,  and  what  the  device 
and  name  upon  the  locket. 

I  am,  Sir, 
Yours  to  command  in  all  right  dealing, 

RUFUS  LYON. 
MALTHOUSE  YAED,  Oct.  3,  1832. 

"Well  done,  old  Lyon,"  said  the  Sector;  "I  didn't  think 
that  any  composition  of  his  would  ever  give  me  so  much 
pleasure." 

"  What  an  old  fox  it  is  !  "  said  Sir  Maximus.  "  Why 
couldn't  he  send  the  things  to  me  at  once  along  with  the 
letter  ?  " 

"iSTo,  no,  Max;  he  uses  a  justifiable  caution,"  said  the 
Rector,  a  refined  and  rather  severe  likeness  of  his  brother, 
with  a  ring  of  fearlessness  and  decision  in  his  voice  which 
startled  all  flaccid  men  and  unruly  boys.  "What  are  you 
going  to  do,  Phil  ?  "  he  added,  seeing  his  nephew  rise. 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  165 

"To  write,  of  course.  Those  other  matters  are  yours,  I 
suppose  ?  "  said  Mr.  Debarry,  looking  at  Christian. 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  I  shall  send  you  with  a  letter  to  the  preacher.  You  can 
describe  your  own  property.  And  the  seal,  uncle  —  was  it 
your  coat-of-arms  ?  " 

"  No,  it  was  this  head  of  Achilles.  Here,  I  can  take  it  off 
the  ring,  and  you  can  carry  it,  Christian.  But  don't  lose  that, 
for  I  've  had  it  ever  since  eighteen  hundred.  I  should  like  to 
send  my  compliments  with  it,"  the  Rector  went  on,  looking 
at  his  brother,  "  and  beg  that  since  he  has  so  much  wise  cau- 
tion at  command,  he  would  exercise  a  little  in  more  public 
matters,  instead  of  making  himself  a  firebrand  in  my  parish, 
and  teaching  hucksters  and  tape-weavers  that  it 's  their  busi- 
ness to  dictate  to  statesmen." 

"How  did  Dissenters,  and  Methodists,  and  Quakers,  and 
people  of  that  sort  first  come  up,  uncle  ?  "  said  Miss  Selina,  a 
radiant  girl  of  twenty,  who  had  given  much  time  to  the  harp. 

"Dear  me,  Selina,"  said  her  elder  sister,  Harriet,  whose 
forte  was  general  knowledge,  "don't  you  remember  '  Wood- 
stock '  ?  They  were  in  Cromwell's  time." 

"  Oh !  Holdenough,  and  those  people  ?  Yes ;  but  they 
preached  in  the  churches ;  they  had  no  chapels.  Tell  me, 
uncle  Gus  ;  I  like  to  be  wise,"  said  Selina,  looking  up  at  the 
face  which  was  smiling  down  on  her  with  a  sort  of  severe 
benignity.  "  Phil  says  I  'm  an  ignorant  puss." 

"  The  seeds  of  Nonconformity  were  sown  at  the  Reforma- 
tion, my  dear,  when  some  obstinate  men  made  scruples  about 
surplices  and  the  place  of  the  communion-table,  and  other 
trifles  of  that  sort.  But  the  Quakers  came  up  about  Crom- 
well's time,  and  the  Methodists  only  in  the  last  century.  The 
first  Methodists  were  regular  clergymen,  the  more 's  the  pity." 

"  But  all  those  wrong  things  —  why  did  n't  government  put 
them  down  ?  " 

"  Ah,  to  be  sure,"  fell  in  Sir  Maximus,  in  a  cordial  tone  of 
corroboration. 

"  Because  error  is  often  strong,  and  government  is  often 
weak,  my  dear.  Well,  Phil,  have  you  finished  your  letter  ?  " 


166  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

"  Yes,  I  will  read  it  to  you,"  said  Philip,  turning  and  lean- 
ing over  the  back  of  his  chair  with  the  letter  in  his  hand. 

There  is  a  portrait  of  Mr.  Philip  Debarry  still  to  be  seen  at 
Treby  Manor,  and  a  very  fine  bust  of  him  at  Home,  where  he 
died  fifteen  years  later,  a  convert  to  Catholicism.  His  face 
would  have  been  plain  but  for  the  exquisite  setting  of  his 
hazel  eyes,  which  fascinated  even  the  dogs  of  the  household. 
The  other  features,  though  slight  and  irregular,  were  redeemed 
from  triviality  by  the  stamp  of  gravity  and  intellectual  pre- 
occupation in  his  face  and  bearing.  As  he  read  aloud,  his 
voice  was  what  his  uncle's  might  have  been  if  it  had  been 
modulated  by  delicate  health  and  a  visitation  of  self-doubt. 

SIR,  —  In  reply  to  the  letter  with  which  you  have  favored  me  this 
morning,  I  beg  to  state  that  the  articles  you  describe  were  lost  from 
the  pocket  of  my  servant,  who  is  the  bearer  of  this  letter  to  you,  and 
is  the  claimant  of  the  vellum  note-book  and  the  gold  chain.  The 
large  leathern  pocket-book  is  my  own  property,  and  the  impression 
on  the  wax,  a  helmeted  head  of  Achilles,  was  made  by  my  uncle,  the 
Rev.  Augustus  Debarry,  who  allows  me  to  forward  his  seal  to  you  in 
proof  that  I  am  not  making  a  mistaken  claim. 

I  feel  myself  under  deep  obligation  to  you,  sir,  for  the  care  and 
trouble  you  have  taken  in  order  to  restore  to  its  right  owner  a  piece 
of  property  which  happens  to  be  of  particular  importance  to  me. 
And  I  shall  consider  myself  doubly  fortunate  if  at  any  time  you  can 
point  out  to  me  some  method  by  which  I  may  procure  you  as  lively  a 
satisfaction  as  I  am  now  feeling,  in  that  full  and  speedy  relief  from 
anxiety  which  1  owe  to  your  considerate  conduct. 

I  remain,  Sir,  your  obliged  and  faithful  servant, 

PHILIP  DEBARRY. 

"  You  know  best,  Phil,  of  course,"  said  Sir  Maximus,  push- 
ing his  plate  from  him,  by  way  of  interjection.  "But  it 
seems  to  me  you  exaggerate  preposterously  every  little  service 
a  man  happens  to  do  for  you.  Why  should  you  make  a  gen- 
eral offer  of  that  sort  ?  How  do  you  know  what  he  will  be 
asking  you  to  do  ?  Stuff  and  nonsense  !  Tell  Willis  to  send 
him  a  few  head  of  game.  You  should  think  twice  before  you 
give  a  blank  check  of  that  sort  to  one  of  these  quibbling, 
meddlesome  Radicals." 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  EADICAL.  167 

"  You  are  afraid  of  my  committing  myself  to  '  the  bottom- 
less perjury  of  an  et  cetera,'"  said  Philip,  smiling,  as  he 
turned  to  fold  his  letter.  "  But  I  think  I  am  not  doing  any 
mischief;  at  all  events  I  could  not  be  content  to  say  less. 
And  I  have  a  notion  that  he  would  regard  a  present  of  game 
just  now  as  an  insult.  I  should,  in  his  place." 

"  Yes,  yes,  you ;  but  you  don't  make  yourself  a  measure 
of  Dissenting  preachers,  I  hope,"  said  Sir  Maximus,  rather 
wrathfully.  "  What  do  you  say,  Gus  ?  " 

"  Phil  is  right,"  said  the  Eector,  in  an  absolute  tone.  "  I 
would  not  deal  with  a  Dissenter,  or  put  profits  into  the  pocket 
of  a  Kadical  which  I  might  put  into  the  pocket  of  a  good 
Churchman  and  a  quiet  subject.  But  if  the  greatest  scoundrel 
in  the  world  made  way  for  me,  or  picked  my  hat  up,  I  would 
thank  him.  So  would  you,  Max." 

"  Pooh !  I  did  n't  mean  that  one  should  n't  behave  like  a 
gentleman,"  said  Sir  Maximus,  in  some  vexation.  He  had 
great  pride  in  his  son's  superiority  even  to  himself ;  but  he  did 
not  enjoy  having  his  own  opinion  argued  down  as  it  always 
was,  and  did  not  quite  trust  the  dim  vision  opened  by  Phil's 
new  words  and  new  notions.  He  could  only  submit  in  silence 
while  the  letter  was  delivered  to  Christian,  with  the  order  to 
start  for  Malthouse  Yard  immediately. 

Meanwhile,  in  that  somewhat  dim  locality  the  possible 
claimant  of  the  note-book  and  the  chain  was  thought  of  and 
expected  with  palpitating  agitation.  Mr.  Lyon  was  seated  in 
his  study,  looking  haggard  and  already  aged  from  a  sleepless 
night.  He  was  so  afraid  lest  his  emotion  should  deprive  him 
of  the  presence  of  mind  necessary  to  the  due  attention  to  par- 
ticulars in  the  coming  interview,  that  he  continued  to  occupy 
his  sight  and  touch  with  the  objects  which  had  stirred  the 
depths,  not  only  of  memory,  but  of  dread.  Once  again  he 
unlocked  a  small  box  which  stood  beside  his  desk,  and  took 
from  it  a  little  oval  locket,  and  compared  this  with  one  which 
hung  with  the  seals  on  the  stray  gold  chain.  There  was  the 
same  device  in  enamel  on  the  back  of  both :  clasped  hands 
surrounded  with  blue  flowers.  Both  had  round  the  face  a 
name  in  gold  italics  on  a  blue  ground :  the  name  on  the  locket 


168  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL. 

taken  from  the  drawer  was  Maurice ;  the  name  on  the  locket 
which  hung  with  the  seals  was  Annette,  and  within  the  circle 
of  this  name  there  was  a  lover's  knot  of  light-brown  hair, 
which  matched  a  curl  that  lay  in  the  box.  The  hair  in  the 
locket  which  bore  the  name  of  Maurice  was  of  a  very  dark 
brown,  and  before  returning  it  to  the  drawer  Mr.  Lyon  noted 
the  color  and  quality  of  this  hair  more  carefully  than  ever. 
Then  he  recurred  to  the  note-book :  undoubtedly  there  had 
been  something,  probably  a  third  name,  beyond  the  names 
Maurice  Christian,  which  had  themselves  been  rubbed  and 
slightly  smeared  as  if  by  accident ;  and  from  the  very  first 
examination  in  the  vestry,  Mr.  Lyon  could  not  prevent  him- 
self from  transferring  the  mental  image  of  the  third  name  in 
faint  lines  to  the  rubbed  leather.  The  leaves  of  the  note-book 
seemed  to  have  been  recently  inserted ;  they  were  of  fresh 
white  paper,  and  only  bore  some  abbreviations  in  pencil  with 
a  notation  of  small  sums.  Nothing  could  be  gathered  from 
the  comparison  of  the  writing  in  the  book  with  that  of  the 
yellow  letters  which  lay  in  the  box :  the  smeared  name  had 
been  carefully  printed,  and  so  bore  no  resemblance  to  the 
signature  of  those  letters ;  and  the  pencil  abbreviations  and 
figures  had  been  made  too  hurriedly  to  bear  any  decisive  wit- 
ness. "  I  will  ask  him  to  write  —  to  write  a  description  of 
the  locket,"  had  been  one  of  Mr.  Lyon's  thoughts  ;  but  he 
faltered  in  that  intention.  His  power  of  fulfilling  it  must 
depend  on  what  he  saw  in  this  visitor,  of  whose  coming  he 
had  a  horrible  dread,  at  the  very  time  he  was  writing  to 
demand  it.  In  that  demand  he  was  obeying  the  voice  of  his 
rigid  conscience,  which  had  never  left  him  perfectly  at  rest 
under  his  one  act  of  deception  —  the  concealment  from  Esther 
that  he  was  not  her  natural  father,  the  assertion  of  a  false 
claim  upon  her.  "  Let  my  path  be  henceforth  simple,"  he 
had  said  to  himself  in  the  anguish  of  that  night;  "let  me 
seek  to  know  what  is,  and  if  possible  to  declare  it."  If  he 
was  really  going  to  find  himself  face  to  face  with  the  man 
who  had  been  Annette's  husband,  and  who  was  Esther's  father 
—  if  that  wandering  of  his  from  the  light  had  brought  the 
punishment  of  a  blind  sacrilege  as  the  issue  of  a  conscious 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  169 

transgression,  —  he  prayed  that  he  might  be  able  to  accept 
all  consequences  of  pain  to  himself.  But  he  saw  other  possi- 
bilities concerning  the  claimant  of  the  book  and  chain.  His 
ignorance  and  suspicions  as  to  the  history  and  character  of 
Annette's  husband  made  it  credible  that  he  had  laid  a  plan 
for  convincing  her  of  his  death  as  a  means  of  freeing  himself 
from  a  burthensome  tie  ;  but  it  seemed  equally  probable  that 
he  was  really  dead,  and  that  these  articles  of  property  had 
been  a  bequest,  or  a  payment,  or  even  a  sale,  to  their  present 
owner.  Indeed,  in  all  these  years  there  was  no  knowing  into 
how  many  hands  such  pretty  trifles  might  have  passed.  And 
the  claimant  might,  after  all,  have  no  connection  with  the 
Debarrys  ;  he  might  not  come  on  this  day  or  the  next.  There 
might  be  more  time  left  for  reflection  and  prayer. 

All  these  possibilities,  which  would  remove  the  pressing 
need  for  difficult  action,  Mr.  Lyon  represented  to  himself, 
but  he  had  no  effective  belief  in  them  ;  his  belief  went  with  his 
strongest  feeling,  and  in  these  moments  his  strongest  feeling 
was  dread.  He  trembled  under  the  weight  that  seemed  already 
added  to  his  own  sin ;  he  felt  himself  already  confronted  by 
Annette's  husband  and  Esther's  father.  Perhaps  the  father 
was  a  gentleman  on  a  visit  to  the  Debarrys.  There  was  no 
hindering  the  pang  with  which  the  old  man  said  to  himself  — 

"  The  child  will  not  be  sorry  to  leave  this  poor  home,  and  I 
shall  be  guilty  in  her  sight." 

He  was  walking  about  among  the  rows  of  books  when  there 
came  a  loud  rap  at  the  outer  door.  The  rap  shook  him  so  that 
he  sank  into  his  chair,  feeling  almost  powerless.  Lyddy  pre- 
sented herself. 

"  Here 's  ever  such  a  fine  man  from  the  Manor  wants  to  see 
you,  sir.  Dear  heart,  dear  heart !  shall  I  tell  him  you  're  too 
bad  to  see  him  ?  " 

"  Show  him  up,"  said  Mr.  Lyon,  making  an  effort  to  rally. 
When  Christian  appeared,  the  minister  half  rose,  leaning  on 
an  arm  of  his  chair,  and  said,  "  Be  seated,  sir,"  seeing  nothing 
but  that  a  tall  man  was  entering. 

"  I  've  brought  you  a  letter  from  Mr.  Debarry,"  said  Chris- 
tian, in  an  off-hand  manner.  This  rusty  little  man,  in  his 


170  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL. 

dismal  chamber,  seemed  to  the  Ulysses  of  the  steward's  room  a 
pitiable  sort  of  human  curiosity,  to  whom  a  man  of  the  world 
would  speak  rather  loudly,  in  accommodation  to  an  eccentricity 
which  was  likely  to  be  accompanied  with  deafness.  One  can- 
not be  eminent  in  everything ;  and  if  Mr.  Christian  had  dis- 
persed his  faculties  in  study  that  would  have  enabled  him 
to  share  unconventional  points  of  view,  he  might  have  worn  a 
mistaken  kind  of  boot,  and  been  less  competent  to  win  at 
ecarte,  or  at  betting,  or  in  any  other  contest  suitable  to  a  per- 
son of  figure. 

As  he  seated  himself,  Mr.  Lyon  opened  the  letter,  and  held 
it  close  to  his  eyes,  so  that  his  face  was  hidden.  But  at  the 
word  "  servant "  he  could  not  avoid  starting,  and  looking  off 
the  letter  towards  the  bearer.  Christian,  knowing  what  was  in 
the  letter,  conjectured  that  the  old  man  was  amazed  to  learn 
that  so  distinguished-looking  a  personage  was  a  servant ;  he 
leaned  forward  with  his  elbows  on  his  knees,  balanced  his 
cane  on  his  fingers,  and  began  a  whispering  whistle.  The 
minister  checked  himself,  finishing  the  reading  of  the  letter, 
and  then  slowly  and  nervously  put  on  his  spectacles  to  survey 
this  man,  between  whose  fate  and  his  own  there  might  be  a 
terrible  collision.  The  word  "  servant "  had  been  a  fresh  cau- 
tion to  him.  He  must  do  nothing  rashly.  Esther's  lot  was 
deeply  concerned. 

"  Here  is  the  seal  mentioned  in  the  letter,"  said  Christian. 

Mr.  Lyon  drew  the  pocket-book  from  his  desk,  and  after 
comparing  the  seal  with  the  impression,  said,  "  It  is  right,  sir  : 
I  deliver  the  pocket-book  to  you." 

He  held  it  out  with  the  seal,  and  Christian  rose  to  take  them, 
saying,  carelessly,  "  The  other  things  —  the  chain  and  the  little 
book — are  mine." 

"  Your  name  then  is  —  " 

"  Maurice  Christian." 

A  spasm  shot  through  Mr.  Lyon.  It  had  seemed  possible 
that  he  might  hear  another  name,  and  be  freed  from  the  worse 
half  of  his  anxiety.  His  next  words  were  not  wisely  chosen, 
but  escaped  him  impulsively. 

"  And  you  have  no  other  name  ?  " 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  171 

"What  do  you  mean?"  said  Christian,  sharply. 

"  Be  so  good  as  to  reseat  yourself." 

Christian  did  not  comply.  "  I  'm  rather  in  a  hurry,  sir,"  he 
said,  recovering  his  coolness.  "If  it  suits  you  to  restore  to 
me  those  small  articles  of  mine,  I  shall  be  glad ;  but  I  would 
rather  leave  them  behind  than  be  detained."  He  had  reflected 
that  the  minister  was  simply  a  punctilious  old  bore.  The 
question  meant  nothing  else.  But  Mr.  Lyon  had  wrought 
himself  up  to  the  task  of  finding  out,  then  and  there,  if  possible, 
whether  or  not  this  were  Annette's  husband.  How  could  he 
lay  himself  and  his  sin  before  God  if  he  wilfully  declined  to 
learn  the  truth  ? 

"  Nay,  sir,  I  will  not  detain  you  unreasonably,"  he  said,  in  a 
firmer  tone  than  before.  "  How  long  have  these  articles  been 
your  property  ?  " 

"Oh,  for  more  than  twenty  years,"  said  Christian,  care- 
lessly. 

He  was  not  altogether  easy  under  the  minister's  persistence, 
but  for  that  very  reason  he  showed  no  more  impatience. 

"  You  have  been  in  France  and  in  Germany  ?  " 

"  I  have  been  in  most  countries  on  the  Continent." 

"  Be  so  good  as  to  write  me  your  name,"  said  Mr.  Lyon, 
dipping  a  pen  in  the  ink,  and  holding  it  out  with  a  piece  of 
paper. 

Christian  was  much  surprised,  but  not  now  greatly  alarmed. 
In  his  rapid  conjectures  as  to  the  explanation  of  the  minister's 
curiosity,  he  had  alighted  on  one  which  might  carry  advan- 
tage rather  than  inconvenience.  But  he  was  not  going  to 
commit  himself. 

"  Before  I  oblige  you  there,  sir,"  he  said,  laying  down  the 
pen,  and  looking  straight  at  Mr.  Lyon,  "  I  must  know  exactly 
the  reasons  you  have  for  putting  these  questions  to  me.  You 
are  a  stranger  to  me  —  an  excellent  person,  I  dare  say  —  but  I 
have  no  concern  about  you  farther  than  to  get  from  you  those 
small  articles.  Do  you  still  doubt  that  they  are  mine  ?  You 
wished,  I  think,  that  I  should  tell  you  what  the  locket  is  like. 
It  has  a  pair  of  hands  and  blue  flowers  on  one  side,  and  the  name 
Annette  round  the  hair  on  the  other  side.  That  is  all  I  have 


172  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

to  say.  If  you  wish  for  anything  more  from  me,  you  will  be 
good  enough  to  tell  me  why  you  wish  it.  Now  then,  sir,  what 
is  your  concern  with  me  ?  " 

The  cool  stare,  the  hard  challenging  voice,  with  which  these 
words  were  uttered,  made  them  fall  like  the  beating  cutting 
chill  of  heavy  hail  on  Mr.  Lyon.  He  sank  back  in  his  chair 
in  utter  irresolution  and  helplessness.  How  was  it  possible 
to  lay  bare  the  sad  and  sacred  past  in  answer  to  such  a  call  as 
this  ?  The  dread  with  which  he  had  thought  of  this  man's 
coming,  the  strongly  confirmed  suspicion  that  he  was  really 
Annette's  husband,  intensified  the  antipathy  created  by  his 
gestures  and  glances.  The  sensitive  little  minister  knew  in- 
stinctively that  words  which  would  cost  him  efforts  as  painful 
as  the  obedient  footsteps  of  a  wounded  bleeding  hound  that  wills 
a  foreseen  throe,  would  fall  on  this  man  as  the  pressure  of  ten- 
der fingers  falls  on  a  brazen  glove.  And  Esther  —  if  this  man 
was  her  father  —  every  additional  word  might  help  to  bring 
down  irrevocable,  perhaps  cruel,  consequences  on  her.  A 
thick  mist  seemed  to  have  fallen  where  Mr.  Lyon  was  looking 
for  the  track  of  duty :  the  difficult  question,  how  far  he  was 
to  care  for  consequences  in  seeking  and  avowing  the  truth, 
seemed  anew  obscured.  All  these  things,  like  the  vision  of  a 
coming  calamity,  were  compressed  into  a  moment  of  conscious- 
ness. Nothing  could  be  done  to-day ;  everything  must  be 
deferred.  He  answered  Christian  in  a  low  apologetic  tone. 

"  It  is  true,  sir ;  you  have  told  me  all  I  can  demand.  I  have 
no  sufficient  reason  for  detaining  your  property  further." 

He  handed  the  note-book  and  chain  to  Christian,  who  had 
been  observing  him  narrowly,  and  now  said,  in  a  tone  of  indif- 
ference, as  he  pocketed  the  articles  — 

"  Very  good,  sir.     I  wish  you  a  good  morning." 

"Good  morning,"  said  Mr.  Lyon,  feeling,  while  the  door 
closed  behind  his  guest,  that  mixture  of  uneasiness  and  relief 
which  all  procrastination  of  difficulty  produces  in  minds  ca- 
pable of  strong  forecast.  The  work  was  still  to  be  done.  He 
had  still  before  him  the  task  of  learning  everything  that 
could  be  learned  about  this  man's  relation  to  himself  and 
Esther. 


FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL.  173 

Christian,  as  he  made  his  way  back  along  Malthouse  Lane, 
was  thinking,  "This  old  fellow  has  got  some  secret  in  his 
head.  It's  not  likely  he  can  know  anything  about  me:  it 
must  be  about  Bycliffe.  But  Bycliffe  was  a  gentleman :  how 
should  he  ever  have  had  anything  to  do  with  such  a  seedy  old 
ranter  as  that  ?  " 


CHAPTER  XV. 

And  doubt  shall  be  as  lead  upon  the  feet 
Of  thy  most  anxious  will. 

MR.  LYON  was  careful  to  look  in  at  Felix  as  soon  as  pos- 
sible after  Christian's  departure,  to  tell  him  that  his  trust  was 
discharged.  During  the  rest  of  the  day  he  was  somewhat  re- 
lieved from  agitating  reflections  by  the  necessity  of  attending 
to  his  ministerial  duties,  the  rebuke  of  rebellious  singers  being 
one  of  them;  and  on  his  return  from  the  Monday  evening 
prayer-meeting  he  was  so  overcome  with  weariness  that  he 
went  to  bed  without  taking  note  of  any  objects  in  his  study. 
But  when  he  rose  the  next  morning,  his  mind,  once  more 
eagerly  active,  was  arrested  by  Philip  Debarry's  letter,  which 
still  lay  open  on  his  desk,  and  was  arrested  by  precisely  that 
portion  which  had  been  unheeded  the  day  before  :  — 

"  I  shall  consider  myself  doubly  fortunate  if  at  any  time  you  can 
point  out  to  me  some  method  by  which  I  may  procure  you  as  lively 
a  satisfaction  as  I  am  now  feeling,  in  that  full  and  speedy  relief  from 
anxiety  which  I  owe  to  your  considerate  conduct." 

To  understand  how  these  words  could  carry  the  suggestion 
they  actually  had  for  the  minister  in  a  crisis  of  peculiar  per- 
sonal anxiety  and  struggle,  we  must  bear  in  mind  that  for 
many  years  he  had  walked  through  life  with  the  sense  of 
having  for  a  space  been  unfaithful  to  what  he  esteemed  the 
highest  trust  ever  committed  to  man  —  the  ministerial  voca- 
tion. In  a  mind  of  any  nobleness,  a  lapse  into  transgression 


174  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

against  an  object  still  regarded  as  supreme,  issues  in  a  new 
and  purer  devotedness,  chastised  by  humility  and  watched 
over  by  a  passionate  regret.  So  it  was  with  that  ardent  spirit 
which  animated  the  little  body  of  Rufus  Lyon.  Once  in  his 
life  he  had  been  blinded,  deafened,  hurried  along  by  rebellious 
impulse ;  he  had  gone  astray  after  his  own  desires,  and  had 
let  the  fire  die  out  on  the  altar ;  and  as  the  true  penitent, 
hating  his  self-besotted  error,  asks  from  all  coming  life  duty 
instead  of  joy,  and  service  instead  of  ease,  so  Rufus  was  per- 
petually on  the  watch  lest  he  should  ever  again  postpone  to 
some  private  affection  a  great  public  opportunity  which  to 
him  was  equivalent  to  a  command. 

Now  here  was  an  opportunity  brought  by  a  combination  of 
that  unexpected  incalculable  kind  which  might  be  regarded 
as  the  Divine  emphasis  invoking  especial  attention  to  trivial 
events  —  an  opportunity  of  securing  what  Eufus  Lyon  had 
often  wished  for  as  a  means  of  honoring  truth,  and  exhibiting 
error  in  the  character  of  a  stammering,  halting,  short-breathed 
usurper  of  office  and  dignity.  What  was  more  exasperating 
to  a  zealous  preacher,  with  whom  copious  speech  was  not  a 
difficulty  but  a  relief  —  who  never  lacked  argument,  but  only 
combatants  and  listeners  —  than  to  reflect  that  there  were 
thousands  on  thousands  of  pulpits  in  this  kingdom,  supplied 
with  handsome  sounding-boards,  and  occupying  an  advanta- 
geous position  in  buildings  far  larger  than  the  chapel  in  Malt- 
house  Yard  —  buildings  sure  to  be  places  of  resort,  even  as 
the  markets  were,  if  only  from  habit  and  interest ;  and  that 
these  pulpits  were  filled,  or  rather  made  vacuous,  by  men 
whose  privileged  education  in  the  ancient  centres  of  instruc- 
tion issued  in  twenty  minutes'  formal  reading  of  tepid  exhor- 
tation or  probably  infirm  deductions  from  premises  based  on 
rotten  scaffolding  ?  And  it  is  in  the  nature  of  exasperation 
gradually  to  concentrate  itself.  The  sincere  antipathy  of  a 
dog  towards  cats  in  general,  necessarily  takes  the  form  of 
indignant  barking  at  the  neighbor's  black  cat  which  makes 
daily  trespass ;  the  bark  at  imagined  cats,  though  a  frequent 
exercise  of  the  canine  mind,  is  yet  comparatively  feeble.  Mr. 
Lyon's  sarcasm  was  not  without  an  edge  when  he  dilated  in 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  175 

general  on  an  elaborate  education  for  teachers  which  issued 
in  the  minimum  of  teaching,  but  it  found  a  whetstone  in  the 
particular  example  of  that  bad  system  known  as  the  Rector  of 
Treby  Magna.  There  was  nothing  positive  to  be  said  against 
the  Rev.  Augustus  Debarry ;  his  life  could  not  be  pronounced 
blameworthy  except  for  its  negatives.  And  the  good  Rufus 
was  too  pure-minded  not  to  be  glad  of  that.  He  had  no  de- 
light in  vice  as  discrediting  wicked  opponents ;  he  shrank 
from  dwelling  on  the  images  of  cruelty  or  of  grossness,  and 
his  indignation  was  habitually  inspired  only  by  those  moral 
and  intellectual  mistakes  which  darken  the  soul  but  do  not 
injure  or  degrade  the  temple  of  the  body.  If  the  Rector  had 
been  a  less  respectable  man,  Rufus  would  have  more  reluc- 
tantly made  him  an  object  of  antagonism ;  but  as  an  incarna- 
tion of  soul-destroying  error,  dissociated  from  those  baser  sins 
which  have  no  good  repute  even  with  the  worldly,  it  would  be 
an  argumentative  luxury  to  get  into  close  quarters  with  him, 
and  fight  with  a  dialectic  short-sword  in  the  eyes  of  the  Treby 
world  (sending  also  a  written  account  thereof  to  the  chief 
organs  of  Dissenting  opinion).  Vice  was  essentially  stupid 
—  a  deaf  and  eyeless  monster,  insusceptible  to  demonstration : 
the  Spirit  might  work  on  it  by  unseen  ways,  and  the  unstudied 
sallies  of  sermons  were  often  as  the  arrows  which  pierced  and 
awakened  the  brutified  conscience;  but  illuminated  thought, 
finely  dividing  speech,  were  the  choicer  weapons  of  the  Divine 
armory,  which  whoso  could  wield  must  be  careful  not  to  leave 
idle. 

Here,  then,  was  the  longed-for  opportunity.  Here  was  an 
engagement  —  an  expression  of  a  strong  wish  —  on  the  part  of 
Philip  Debarry,  if  it  were  in  his  power,  to  procure  a  satisfac- 
tion to  Rufus  Lyon.  How  had  that  man  of  God  and  exem- 
plary Independent  minister,  Mr.  Ainsworth,  of  persecuted 
sanctity,  conducted  himself  when  a  similar  occasion  had  be- 
fallen him  at  Amsterdam  ?  He  had  thought  of  nothing  but 
the  glory  of  the  highest  cause,  and  had  converted  the  offer  of 
recompense  into  a  public  debate  with  a  Jew  on  the  chief  mys- 
teries of  the  faith.  Here  was  a  model :  the  case  was  nothing 
short  of  a  heavenly  indication,  and  he,  Rufus  Lyon,  would 


176  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL. 

seize  the  occasion  to  demand  a  public  debate  with,  the  Rector 
on  the  Constitution  of  the  true  Church. 

What  if  he  were  inwardly  torn  by  doubt  and  anxiety  con- 
cerning his  own  private  relations  and  the  facts  of  his  past 
life  ?  That  danger  of  absorption  within  the  narrow  bounds  of 
self  only  urged  him  the  more  towards  action  which  had  a 
wider  bearing,  and  might  tell  on  the  welfare  of  England  at 
large.  It  was  decided.  Before  the  minister  went  down  to 
his  breakfast  that  morning  he  had  written  the  following  letter 
to  Mr.  Philip  Debarry  :  — 

SIR,  —  Referring  to  your  letter  of  yesterday,  I  find  the  following 
words:  "  I  shall  consider  myself  doubly  fortunate  if  at  any  time  you 
can  point  out  to  me  some  method  by  which  I  may  procure  you  as 
lively  a  satisfaction  as  I  am  now  feeling,  in  that  full  and  speedy  relief 
from  anxiety  which  I  owe  to  your  considerate  conduct." 

I  am  not  unaware,  sir,  that,  in  the  usage  of  the  world,  there  are 
words  of  courtesy  (so  called)  which  are  understood,  by  those  amongst 
whom  they  are  current,  to  have  no  precise  meaning,  and  to  constitute 
no  bond  or  obligation.  I  will  not  now  insist  that  this  is  an  abuse  of 
language,  wherein  our  fallible  nature  requires  the  strictest  safeguards 
against  laxity  and  misapplication,  for  I  do  not  apprehend  that  in  writ- 
ing the  words  I  have  above  quoted,  you  were  open  to  the  reproach  of 
using  phrases  which,  while  seeming  to  carry  a  specific  meaning,  were 
really  no  more  than  what  is  called  a  polite  form.  1  believe,  sir,  that 
you  used  these  words  advisedly,  sincerely,  and  with  an  honorable  in- 
tention of  acting  on  them  as  a  pledge,  should  such  action  be  demanded. 
No  other  supposition  on  my  part  would  correspond  to  the  character 
you  bear  as  a  young  man  who  aspires  (albeit  mistakenly)  to  engraft 
the  finest  fruits  of  public  virtue  on  a  creed  and  institutions,  whereof 
the  sap  is  composed  rather  of  human  self-seeking  than  of  everlasting 
truth. 

Wherefore  I  act  on  this  my  belief  in  the  integrity  of  your  written 
word;  and  I  beg  you  to  procure  for  me  (as  it  is  doubtless  in  your 
power)  that  I  may  be  allowed  a  public  discussion  with  your  near  rela- 
tive, the  Rector  of  this  parish,  the  Reverend  Augustus  Debarry,  to  be 
held  in  the  large  room  of  the  Free  School,  or  in  the  Assembly  Room 
of  the  Marquis  of  Granby,  these  being  the  largest  covered  spaces  at 
our  command.  For  I  presume  he  would  neither  allow  me  to  speak 
within  his  church,  nor  would  consent  himself  to  speak  within  my 
chapel ;  and  the  probable  inclemency  of  the  approaching  season  for- 


FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL.  177 

bids  an  assured  expectation  that  we  could  discourse  in  the  open  air. 
The  subjects  I  desire  to  discuss  are,  —  first,  the  Constitution  of  the 
true  Church;  and,  secondly,  the  bearing  thereupon  of  the  English 
Reformation.  Confidently  expecting  that  you  will  comply  with  this 
request,  which  is  the  sequence  of  your  expressed  desire,  I  remain,  sir, 
yours,  with  the  respect  offered  to  a  sincere  withstander, 

RUFUS  LYON. 
MALTHOUSE  YARD. 

After  writing  this  letter,  the  good  Kufus  felt  that  serenity 
and  elevation  of  mind  which,  is  infallibly  brought  by  a  preoc- 
cupation with  the  wider  relations  of  things.  Already  he  was 
beginning  to  sketch  the  course  his  argument  might  most  judi- 
ciously take  in  the  coming  debate ;  his  thoughts  were  running 
into  sentences,  and  marking  off  careful  exceptions  in  parenthe- 
sis ;  and  he  had  come  down  and  seated  himself  at  the  breakfast- 
table  quite  automatically,  without  expectation  of  toast  or 
coffee,  when  Esther's  voice  and  touch  recalled  him  to  an  in- 
ward debate  of  another  kind,  in  which  he  felt  himself  much 
weaker.  Again  there  arose  before  him  the  image  of  that  cool, 
hard-eyed,  worldly  man,  who  might  be  this  dear  child's  father, 
and  one  against  whose  rights  he  had  himself  grievously  of- 
fended. Always  as  the  image  recurred  to  him  Mr.  Lyon's 
heart  sent  forth  a  prayer  for  guidance,  but  no  definite  guidance 
had  yet  made  itself  visible  for  him.  It  could  not  be  guidance 
—  it  was  a  temptation  —  that  said,  "  Let  the  matter  rest :  seek 
to  know  no  more  ;  know  only  what  is  thrust  upon  you."  The 
remembrance  that  in  his  time  of  wandering  he  had  wilfully 
remained  in  ignorance  of  facts  which  he  might  have  inquired 
after,  deepened  the  impression  that  it  was  now  an  imperative 
duty  to  seek  the  fullest  attainable  knowledge.  And  the  in- 
quiry might  possibly  issue  in  a  blessed  repose,  by  putting  a 
negative  on  all  his  suspicions.  But  the  more  vividly  all  the 
circumstances  became  present  to  him,  the  more  unfit  he  felt 
himself  to  set  about  any  investigation  concerning  this  man 
who  called  himself  Maurice  Christian.  He  could  seek  no  con- 
fidant or  helper  among  "  the  brethren ;  "  he  was  obliged  to 
admit  to  himself  that  the  members  of  his  church,  with  whom 
he  hoped  to  go  to  heaven,  were  not  easy  to  converse  with  on 

VOL.    III.  12 


178  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL. 

earth  touching  the  deeper  secrets  of  his  experience,  and  were 
still  less  able  to  advise  him  as  to  the  wisest  procedure,  in  a 
case  of  high  delicacy,  with  a  worldling  who  had  a  carefully 
trimmed  whisker  and  a  fashionable  costume.  For  the  first 
time  in  his  life  it  occurred  to  the  minister  that  he  should  be 
glad  of  an  adviser  who  had  more  worldly  than  spiritual  expe- 
rience, and  that  it  might  not  be  inconsistent  with  his  princi- 
ples to  seek  some  light  from  one  who  had  studied  human  law. 
But  it  was  a  thought  to  be  paused  upon,  and  not  followed  out 
rashly ;  some  other  guidance  might  intervene. 

Esther  noticed  that  her  father  was  in  a  fit  of  abstraction, 
that  he  seemed  to  swallow  his  coffee  and  toast  quite  uncon- 
sciously, and  that  he  vented  from  time  to  time  a  low  guttural 
interjection,  which  was  habitual  with  him  when  he  was  ab- 
sorbed by  an  inward  discussion.  She  did  not  disturb  him  by 
remarks,  and  only  wondered  whether  anything  unusual  had 
occurred  on  Sunday  evening.  But  at  last  she  thought  it 
needful  to  say,  "  You  recollect  what  I  told  you  yesterday, 
father  ?  " 

"  Nay,  child  ;  what  ?  "  said  Mr.  Lyon,  rousing  himself. 

"  That  Mr.  Jermyn  asked  me  if  you  would  probably  be  at 
home  this  morning  before  one  o'clock." 

Esther  was  surprised  to  see  her  father  start  and  change 
color  as  if  he  had  been  shaken  by  some  sudden  collision  before 
he  answered  — 

"  Assuredly  ;  I  do  not  intend  to  move  from  my  study  after 
I  have  once  been  out  to  give  this  letter  to  Zachary." 

"  Shall  I  tell  Lyddy  to  take  him  up  at  once  to  your  study  if 
he  comes  ?  If  not,  I  shall  have  to  stay  in  my  own  room,  be- 
cause I  shall  be  at  home  all  this  morning,  and  it  is  rather  cold 
now  to  sit  without  a  fire." 

"Yes,  my  dear,  let  him  come  up  to  me ;  unless,  indeed,  he 
should  bring  a  second  person,  which  might  happen,  seeing  that 
in  all  likelihood  he  is  coming,  as  hitherto,  on  electioneering 
business.  And  I  could  not  well  accommodate  two  visitors 
up-stairs." 

While  Mr.  Lyon  went  out  to  Zachary,  the  pew-opener,  to 
give  him  a  second  time  the  commission  of  carrying  a  letter  to 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  179 

Treby  Manor,  Esther  gave  her  injunction  to  Lyddy  that  if  one 
gentleman  came  he  was  to  be  shown  up-stairs  —  if  two,  they 
were  to  be  shown  into  the  parlor.  But  she  had  to  resolve 
various  questions  before  Lyddy  clearly  saw  what  was  expected 
of  her,  —  as  that  "  if  it  was  the  gentleman  as  came  on  Thurs- 
day in  the  pepper-and-salt  coat,  was  he  to  be  shown  up-stairs  ? 
And  the  gentleman  from  the  Manor  yesterday  as  went  out 
whistling  —  had  Miss  Esther  heard  about  him  ?  There  seemed 
no  end  of  these  great  folks  coming  to  Malthouse  Yard  since 
there  was  talk  of  the  election ;  but  they  might  be  poor  lost 
creatures  the  most  of  'em."  Whereupon  Lyddy  shook  her 
head  and  groaned,  under  an  edifying  despair  as  to  the  future 
lot  of  gentlemen  callers. 

Esther  always  avoided  asking  questions  of  Lyddy,  who 
found  an  answer  as  she  found  a  key,  by  pouring  out  a  pocket- 
ful of  miscellanies.  But  she  had  remarked  so  many  indica- 
tions that  something  had  happened  to  cause  her  father  unusual 
excitement  and  mental  preoccupation,  that  she  could  not  help 
connecting  with  them  the  fact  of  this  visit  from  the  Manor, 
which  he  had  not  mentioned  to  her. 

She  sat  down  in  the  dull  parlor  and  took  up  her  netting ; 
for  since  Sunday  she  had  felt  unable  to  read  when  she  was 
alone,  being  obliged,  in  spite  of  herself,  to  think  of  Felix  Holt 
—  to  imagine  what  he  would  like  her  to  be,  and  what  sort  of 
views  he  took  of  life  so  as  to  make  it  seem  valuable  in  the 
absence  of  all  elegance,  luxury,  gayety,  or  romance.  Had  he 
yet  reflected  that  he  had  behaved  very  rudely  to  her  on  Sun- 
day ?  Perhaps  not.  Perhaps  he  had  dismissed  her  from  his 
mind  with  contempt.  And  at  that  thought  Esther's  eyes 
smarted  unpleasantly.  She  was  fond  of  netting,  because  it 
showed  to  advantage  both  her  hand  and  her  foot ;  and  across 
this  image  of  Felix  Holt's  indifference  and  contempt  there 
passed  the  vaguer  image  of  a  possible  somebody  who  would 
admire  her  hands  and  feet,  and  delight  in  looking  at  their 
beauty,  and  long,  yet  not  dare,  to  kiss  them.  Life  would  be 
much  easier  in  the  presence  of  such  a  love.  But  it  was  pre- 
cisely this  longing  after  her  own  satisfaction  that  Felix  had 
reproached  her  with.  Did  he  want  her  to  be  heroic  ?  That 


180  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

seemed  impossible  without  some  great  occasion.  Her  life  was 
a  heap  of  fragments,  and  so  were  her  thoughts :  some  great 
energy  was  needed  to  bind  them  together.  Esther  was  begin- 
ning to  lose  her  complacency  at  her  own  wit  and  criticism ;  to 
lose  the  sense  of  superiority  in  an  awakening  need  for  reliance 
on  one  whose  vision  was  wider,  whose  nature  was  purer  and 
stronger  than  her  own.  But  then,  she  said  to  herself,  that 
"one"  must  be  tender  to  her,  not  rude  and  predominating  in 
his  manners.  A  man  with  any  chivalry  in  him  could  never 
adopt  a  scolding  tone  towards  a  woman  —  that  is,  towards  a 
charming  woman.  But  Felix  had  no  chivalry  in  him.  He 
loved  lecturing  and  opinion  too  well  ever  to  love  any  woman. 

In  this  way  Esther  strove  to  see  that  Felix  was  thoroughly 
in  the  wrong  —  at  least,  if  he  did  not  come  again  expressly  to 
show  that  he  was  sorry. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

Trueblue.    These  men  have  no  votes.     Why  should  I  court  them  ? 

Grayfox.     No  votes,  but  power. 

Trueblue.     What !  over  charities  ? 

Grayfox.  No,  over  brains ;  which  disturbs  the  canvass.  In  a  natural  state 
of  things  the  average  price  of  a  vote  at  Paddlebrook  is  nine-and-six-pence, 
throwing  the  fifty-pound  tenants,  who  cost  nothing,  into  the  divisor.  But 
these  talking  men  cause  an  artificial  rise  of  prices. 

THE  expected  important  knock  at  the  door  came  about 
twelve  o'clock,  and  Esther  could  hear  that  there  were  two 
visitors.  Immediately  the  parlor  door  was  opened  and  the 
shaggy-haired,  cravatless  image  of  Felix  Holt,  which  was  just 
then  full  in  the  mirror  of  Esther's  mind,  was  displaced  by  the 
highly  contrasted  appearance  of  a  personage  whose  name  she 
guessed  before  Mr.  Jermyn  had  announced  it.  The  perfect 
morning  costume  of  that  day  differed  much  from  our  present 
ideal :  it  was  essential  that  a  gentleman's  chin  should  be  well 
propped,  that  his  collar  should  have  a  voluminous  roll,  that 


FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL.  181 

his  waistcoat  should  imply  much  discrimination,  and  that  his 
buttons  should  be  arranged  in  a  manner  which  would  now  ex- 
pose him  to  general  contempt.  And  it  must  not  be  forgotten 
that  at  the  distant  period  when  Treby  Magna  first  knew  the 
excitements  of  an  election,  there  existed  many  other  anomalies 
now  obsolete,  besides  short-waisted  coats  and  broad  stiffeners. 

But  we  have  some  notions  of  beauty  and  fitness  which  with- 
stand the  centuries ;  and  quite  irrespective  of  dates,  it  would 
be  pronounced  that  at  the  age  of  thirty-four  Harold  Transome 
was  a  striking  and  handsome  man.  He  was  one  of  those  peo- 
ple, as  Denuer  had  remarked,  to  whose  presence  in  the  room 
you  could  not  be  indifferent :  if  you  do  not  hate  or  dread  them, 
you  must  find  the  touch  of  their  hands,  nay,  their  very  shad- 
ows, agreeable. 

Esther  felt  a  pleasure  quite  new  to  her  as  she  saw  his  finely 
embrowned  face  and  full  bright  eyes  turned  towards  her  with 
an  air  of  deference  by  which  gallantry  must  commend  itself 
to  a  refined  woman  who  is  not  absolutely  free  from  vanity. 
Harold  Transome  regarded  women  as  slight  things,  but  he  was 
fond  of  slight  things  in  the  intervals  of  business  ;  and  he  held 
it  among  the  chief  arts  of  life  to  keep  these  pleasant  diversions 
within  such  bounds  that  they  should  never  interfere  with  the 
course  of  his  serious  ambition.  Esther  was  perfectly  aware, 
as  he  took  a  chair  near  her,  that  he  was  under  some  admiring 
surprise  at  her  appearance  and  manner.  How  could  it  be 
otherwise  ?  She  believed  that  in  the  eyes  of  a  high-bred  man 
no  young  lady  in  Treby  could  equal  her :  she  felt  a  glow  of 
delight  at  the  sense  that  she  was  being  looked  at. 

"My  father  expected  you,"  she  said  to  Mr.  Jermyn.  "I 
delivered  your  letter  to  him  yesterday.  He  will  be  down 
immediately." 

She  disentangled  her  foot  from  her  netting  and  wound 
it  up. 

"  I  hope  you  are  not  going  to  let  us  disturb  you,"  said  Har- 
old, noticing  her  action.  "  We  come  to  discuss  election  affairs, 
and  we  particularly  desire  to  interest  the  ladies." 

"  I  have  no  interest  with  any  one  who  is  not  already  on  the 
right  side,"  said  Esther,  smiling. 


182  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL. 

"I  am  happy  to  see  at  least  that  you  wear  the  Liberal 
colors." 

"  I  fear  I  must  confess  that  it  is  more  from  love  of  blue  than 
from  love  of  Liberalism.  Yellow  opinions  could  only  have 
brunettes  on  their  side."  Esther  spoke  with  her  usual  pretty 
fluency,  but  she  had  no  sooner  uttered  the  words  than  she 
thought  how  angry  they  would  have  made  Felix. 

"  If  my  cause  is  to  be  recommended  by  the  becomingness  of 
my  colors,  then  I  am  sure  you  are  acting  in  my  interest  by 
wearing  them." 

Esther  rose  to  leave  the  room. 

"  Must  you  really  go  ?  "  said  Harold,  preparing  to  open  the 
door  for  her. 

"  Yes ;  I  have  an  engagement  —  a  lesson  at  half-past  twelve," 
said  Esther,  bowing  and  floating  out  like  a  blue-robed  Naiad, 
but  not  without  a  suffused  blush  as  she  passed  through  the 
doorway. 

It  was  a  pity  the  room  was  so  small,  Harold  Transome 
thought :  this  girl  ought  to  walk  in  a  house  where  there  were 
halls  and  corridors.  But  he  had  soon  dismissed  this  chance 
preoccupation  with  Esther ;  for  before  the  door  was  closed 
again  Mr.  Lyon  had  entered,  and  Harold  was  entirely  bent  on 
what  had  been  the  object  of  his  visit.  The  minister,  though 
no  elector  himself,  had  considerable  influence  over  Liberal 
electors,  and  it  was  the  part  of  wisdom  in  a  candidate  to 
cement  all  political  adhesion  by  a  little  personal  regard,  if 
possible.  Garstin  was  a  harsh  and  wiry  fellow ;  he  seemed  to 
suggest  that  sour  whey,  which  some  say  was  the  original  mean- 
ing of  Whig  in  the  Scottish,  and  it  might  assist  the  theoretic 
advantages  of  Radicalism  if  it  could  be  associated  with  a  more 
generous  presence.  What  would  conciliate  the  personal  regard 
of  old  Mr.  Lyon  became  a  curious  problem  to  Harold,  now  the 
little  man  made  his  appearance.  But  canvassing  makes  a  gen- 
tleman acquainted  with  many  strange  animals,  together  with 
the  ways  of  catching  and  taming  them ;  and  thus  the  knowl- 
edge of  natural  history  advances  amongst  the  aristocracy  and 
the  wealthy  commoners  of  our  land. 

"  I  am  very  glad  to  have  secured  this  opportunity  of  making 


FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL.  183 

your  personal  acquaintance,  Mr.  Lyon,"  said  Harold,  putting 
out  his  hand  to  the  minister  when  Jermyn  had  mentioned  his 
name.  "I  am  to  address  the  electors  here,  in  the  Market- 
place, to-morrow ;  and  I  should  have  been  sorry  to  do  so  with- 
out first  paying  my  respects  privately  to  my  chief  friends,  as 
there  may  be  points  on  which  they  particularly  wish  me  to 
explain  myself." 

"  You  speak  civilly,  sir,  and  reasonably,"  said  Mr.  Lyon,  with 
a  vague  short-sighted  gaze,  in  which  a  candidate's  appearance 
evidently  went  for  nothing.  "  Pray  be  seated,  gentlemen.  It 
is  my  habit  to  stand." 

He  placed  himself  at  a  right  angle  with  his  visitors,  his  worn 
look  of  intellectual  eagerness,  slight  frame,  and  rusty  attire, 
making  an  odd  contrast  with  their  flourishing  persons,  unblem- 
ished costume,  and  comfortable  freedom  from  excitement.  The 
group  was  fairly  typical  of  the  difference  between  the  men  who 
are  animated  by  ideas  and  the  men  who  are  expected  to  apply 
them.  Then  he  drew  forth  his  spectacles,  and  began  to  rub 
them  with  the  thin  end  of  his  coat-tail.  He  was  inwardly 
exercising  great  self-mastery  —  suppressing  the  thought  of  his 
personal  needs,  which  Jermyn's  presence  tended  to  suggest, 
in  order  that  he  might  be  equal  to  the  larger  duties  of  this 
occasion. 

"  I  am  aware  —  Mr.  Jermyn  has  told  me,"  said  Harold, 
"  what  good  service  you  have  done  me  already,  Mr.  Lyon. 
The  fact  is,  a  man  of  intellect  like  you  was  especially  needed 
in  my  case.  The  race  I  am  running  is  really  against  Garstin 
only,  who  calls  himself  a  Liberal,  though  he  cares  for  nothing, 
and  understands  nothing,  except  the  interests  of  the  wealthy 
traders.  And  you  have  been  able  to  explain  the  difference 
between  Liberal  and  Liberal,  which,  as  you  and  I  know,  is 
something  like  the  difference  between  fish  and  fish." 

"Your  comparison  is  not  unapt,  sir,"  said  Mr.  Lyon,  still 
holding  his  spectacles  in  his  hand,  "  at  this  epoch,  when  the 
mind  of  the  nation  has  been  strained  on  the  passing  of  one 
measure.  Where  a  great  weight  has  to  be  moved,  we  require 
not  so  much  selected  instruments  as  abundant  horse-power. 
But  it  is  an  unavoidable  evil  of  these  massive  achievements 


184  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  EADICAL. 

that  they  encourage  a  coarse  undiscriminatingness  obstructive 
of  more  nicely  wrought  results,  and  an  exaggerated  expectation 
inconsistent  with  the  intricacies  of  our  fallen  and  struggling 
condition.  I  say  not  that  compromise  is  unnecessary,  but  it  is 
an  evil  attendant  on  our  imperfection ;  and  I  would  pray  every 
one  to  mark  that,  where  compromise  broadens,  intellect  and 
conscience  are  thrust  into  narrower  room.  Wherefore  it  has 
been  my  object  to  show  our  people  that  there  are  many  who 
have  helped  to  draw  the  car  of  Reform,  whose  ends  are  but 
partial,  and  who  forsake  not  the  ungodly  principle  of  selfish 
alliances,  but  would  only  substitute  Syria  for  Egypt  —  thinking 
chiefly  of  their  own  share  in  peacocks,  gold,  and  ivory." 

"Just  so,"  said  Harold,  who  was  quick  at  new  languages, 
and  still  quicker  at  translating  other  men's  generalities  into 
his  own  special  and  immediate  purposes,  "men  who  will  be 
satisfied  if  they  can  only  bring  in  a  plutocracy,  buy  up  the 
land,  and  stick  the  old  crests  on  their  new  gateways.  Now 
the  practical  point  to  secure  against  these  false  Liberals  at 
present  is,  that  our  electors  should  not  divide  their  votes.  As 
it  appears  that  many  who  vote  for  Debarry  are  likely  to  split 
their  votes  in  favor  of  Garstin,  it  is  of  the  first  consequence 
that  my  voters  should  give  me  plumpers.  If  they  divide  their 
votes  they  can't  keep  out  Debarry,  and  they  may  help  to  keep 
out  me.  I  feel  some  confidence  in  asking  you  to  use  your  in- 
fluence in  this  direction,  Mr.  Lyon.  We  candidates  have  to 
praise  ourselves  more  than  is  graceful ;  but  you  are  aware  that, 
while  I  belong  by  my  birth  to  the  classes  that  have  their  roots 
in  tradition  and  all  the  old  loyalties,  my  experience  has  lain 
chiefly  among  those  who  make  their  own  career,  and  depend 
on  the  new  rather  than  the  old.  I  have  had  the  advantage  of 
considering  national  welfare  under  varied  lights :  I  have  wider 
views  than  those  of  a  mere  cotton  lord.  On  questions  con- 
nected with  religious  liberty  I  would  stop  short  at  no  measure 
that  was  not  thorough." 

"I  hope  not,  sir  —  I  hope  not,"  said  Mr.  Lyon,  gravely; 
finally  putting  on  his  spectacles  and  examining  the  face  of  the 
candidate,  whom  he  was  preparing  to  turn  into  a  catechumen. 
For  the  good  Rufua,  conscious  of  his  political  importance  as 


FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL.  185 

an  organ  of  persuasion,  felt  it  his  duty  to  catechise  a  little, 
and  also  to  do  his  part  towards  impressing  a  probable  legislator 
with  a  sense  of  his  responsibility.  But  the  latter  branch  of 
duty  somewhat  obstructed  the  catechising,  for  his  mind  was  so 
urged  by  considerations  which  he  held  in  danger  of  being  over- 
looked, that  the  questions  and  answers  bore  a  very  slender 
proportion  to  his  exposition.  It  was  impossible  to  leave  the 
question  of  church-rates  without  noting  the  grounds  of  their 
injustice,  and  without  a  brief  enumeration  of  reasons  why  Mr. 
Lyon,  for  his  own  part,  would  not  present  that  passive  resist- 
ance to  a  legal  imposition  which  had  been  adopted  by  the 
Friends  (whose  heroism  in  this  regard  was  nevertheless  worthy 
of  all  honor). 

Comprehensive  talkers  are  apt  to  be  tiresome  when  we  are 
not  athirst  for  information,  but,  to  be  quite  fair,  we  must 
admit  that  superior  reticence  is  a  good  deal  due  to  the  lack  of 
matter.  Speech  is  often  barren ;  but  silence  also  does  not  ne- 
cessarily brood  over  a  full  nest.  Your  still  fowl,  blinking  at 
you  without  remark,  may  all  the  while  be  sitting  on  one  addled 
nest-egg ;  and  when  it  takes  to  cackling,  will  have  nothing  to 
announce  but  that  addled  delusion. 

Harold  Transome  was  not  at  all  a  patient  man,  but  in  mat- 
ters of  business  he  was  quite  awake  to  his  cue,  and  in  this  case 
it  was  perhaps  easier  to  listen  than  to  answer  questions.  But 
Jermyn,  who  had  plenty  of  work  on  his  hands,  took  an  oppor- 
tunity of  rising,  and  saying,  as  he  looked  at  his  watch  — 

"I  must  really  be  at  the  office  in  five  minutes.  You  will 
find  me  there,  Mr.  Transome  ;  you  have  probably  still  many 
things  to  say  to  Mr.  Lyon." 

"  I  beseech  you,  sir,"  said  the  minister,  changing  color,  and 
by  a  quick  movement  laying  his  hand  on  Jermyn's  arm  —  "I 
beseech  you  to  favor  me  with  an  interview  on  some  private 
business — this  evening,  if  it  were  possible." 

Mr.  Lyon,  like  others  who  are  habitually  occupied  with  imper- 
sonal subjects,  was  liable  to  this  impulsive  sort  of  action.  He 
snatched  at  the  details  of  life  as  if  they  were  darting  past  him 
—  as  if  they  were  like  the  ribbons  at  his  knees,  which  would 
never  be  tied  all  day  if  they  were  not  tied  on  the  instant. 


186  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

Through  these  spasmodic  leaps  out  of  his  abstractions  into 
real  life,  it  constantly  happened  that  he  suddenly  took  a  course 
which  had  been  the  subject  of  too  much  doubt  with  him  ever 
to  have  been  determined  on  by  continuous  thought.  And  if 
Jermyn  had  not  startled  him  by  threatening  to  vanish  just 
when  he  was  plunged  in  politics,  he  might  never  have  made 
up  his  mind  to  confide  in  a  worldly  attorney. 

("  An  odd  man,"  as  Mrs.  Muscat  observed,  "  to  have  such  a 
gift  in  the  pulpit.  But  there  's  One  knows  better  than  we 
do  —  "  which,  in  a  lady  who  rarely  felt  her  judgment  at  a 
loss,  was  a  concession  that  showed  much  piety.) 

Jermyn  was  surprised  at  the  little  man's  eagerness.  "  By 
all  means,"  he  answered,  quite  cordially.  "  Could  you  come 
to  my  office  at  eight  o'clock  ?  " 

"  For  several  reasons,  I  must  beg  you  to  come  to  me." 

"  Oh,  very  good.  I  '11  walk  out  and  see  you  this  evening,  if 
possible.  I  shall  have  much  pleasure  in  being  of  any  use  to 
you."  Jermyn  felt  that  in  the  eyes  of  Harold  he  was  appear- 
ing all  the  more  valuable  when  his  services  were  thus  in  request. 
He  went  out,  and  Mr.  Lyon  easily  relapsed  into  politics,  for 
he  had  been  on  the  brink  of  a  favorite  subject  on  which  he 
was  at  issue  with  his  fellow-Liberals. 

At  that  time,  when  faith  in  the  efficacy  of  political  change 
was  at  fever-heat  in  ardent  Eeformers,  many  measures  which 
men  are  still  discussing  with  little  confidence  on  either  side, 
were  then  talked  about  and  disposed  of  like  property  in  near 
reversion.  Crying  abuses  —  "  bloated  paupers,"  "  bloated  plu- 
ralists,"  and  other  corruptions  hindering  men  from  being  wise 
and  happy  —  had  to  be  fought  against  and  slain.  Such  a  time 
is  a  time  of  hope.  Afterwards,  when  the  corpses  of  those 
monsters  have  been  held  up  to  the  public  wonder  and  abhor- 
rence, and  yet  wisdom  and  happiness  do  not  follow,  but  rather 
a  more  abundant  breeding  of  the  foolish  and  unhappy,  comes 
a  time  of  doubt  and  despondency.  But  in  the  great  Reform- 
year  Hope  was  mighty  :  the  prospect  of  Reform  had  even 
served  the  voters  instead  of  drink ;  and  in  one  place,  at  least, 
there  had  been  "  a  dry  election."  And  now  the  speakers 
at  Reform  banquets  were  exuberant  in  congratulation  and 


FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL.  187 

promise :  Liberal  clergymen  of  the  Establishment  toasted  Lib- 
eral Catholic  clergymen  without  any  allusion  to  scarlet,  and 
Catholic  clergymen  replied  with  a  like  tender  reserve.  Some 
dwelt  on  the  abolition  of  all  abuses,  and  on  millennial  blessed- 
ness generally ;  others,  whose  imaginations  were  less  suffused 
with  exhalations  of  the  dawn,  insisted  chiefly  on  the  ballot- 
box. 

Now  on  this  question  of  the  ballot  the  minister  strongly 
took  the  negative  side.  Our  pet  opinions  are  usually  those 
which  place  us  in  a  minority  of  a  minority  amongst  our  own 
party  :  —  very  happily,  else  those  poor  opinions,  born  with  no 
silver  spoon  in  their  mouths  —  how  would  they  get  nourished 
and  fed  ?  So  it  was  with  Mr.  Lyon  and  his  objection  to  the 
ballot.  But  he  had  thrown  out  a  remark  on  the  subject  which 
was  not  quite  clear  to  his  hearer,  who  interpreted  it  according 
to  his  best  calculation  of  probabilities. 

"  I  have  no  objection  to  the  ballot,"  said  Harold,  "  but  I 
think  that  is  not  the  sort  of  thing  we  have  to  work  at 
just  now.  We  should  n't  get  it.  And  other  questions  are 
imminent." 

"  Then,  sir,  you  would  vote  for  the  ballot  ?  "  said  Mr.  Lyon, 
stroking  his  chin. 

"  Certainly,  if  the  point  came  up.  I  have  too  much  respect 
for  the  freedom  of  the  voter  to  oppose  anything  which  offers  a 
chance  of  making  that  freedom  more  complete." 

Mr.  Lyon  looked  at  the  speaker  with  a  pitying  smile  and 
a  subdued  "h'm — m — m,"  which  Harold  took  for  a  sign  of 
satisfaction.  He  was  soon  undeceived. 

"  You  grieve  me,  sir ;  you  grieve  me  much.  And  I  pray 
you  to  reconsider  this  question,  for  it  will  take  you  to  the 
root,  as  I  think,  of  political  morality.  I  engage  to  show  to 
any  impartial  mind,  duly  furnished  with  the  principles  of 
public  and  private  rectitude,  that  the  ballot  would  be  perni- 
cious, and  that  if  it  were  not  pernicious  it  would  still  be  futile. 
I  will  show,  first,  that  it  would  be  futile  as  a  preservative 
from  bribery  and  illegitimate  influence ;  and,  secondly,  that  it 
would  be  in  the  worst  kind  pernicious,  as  shutting  the  door 
against  those  influences  whereby  the  soul  of  a  man  and  the 


188  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL. 

character  of  a  citizen  are  duly  educated  for  their  great  func-. 
tions.  Be  not  alarmed  if  I  detain  you,  sir.  It  is  well  worth 
the  while." 

"Confound  this  old  man,"  thought  Harold.  "I'll  never 
make  a  canvassing  call  on  a  preacher  again,  unless  he  has  lost 
his  voice  from  a  cold."  He  was  going  to  excuse  himself  as 
prudently  as  he  could,  by  deferring  the  subject  till  the  mor- 
row, and  inviting  Mr.  Lyon  to  come  to  him  in  the  committee- 
room  before  the  time  appointed  for  his  public  speech ;  but  he 
was  relieved  by  the  opening  of  the  door.  Lyddy  put  in  her 
head  to  say  — 

"  If  you  please,  sir,  here  's  Mr.  Holt  wants  to  know  if  he 
may  come  in  and  speak  to  the  gentleman.  He  begs  your 
pardon,  but  you're  to  say  'no'  if  you  don't  like  him  to 
come." 

"  Nay,  show  him  in  at  once,  Lyddy.  A  young  man,"  Mr. 
Lyon  went  on,  speaking  to  Harold,  "whom  a  representative 
ought  to  know  —  no  voter,  but  a  man  of  ideas  and  study." 

"He  is  thoroughly  welcome,"  said  Harold,  truthfully 
enough,  though  he  felt  little  interest  in  the  voteless  man  of 
ideas  except  as  a  diversion  from  the  subject  of  the  ballot.  He 
had  been  standing  for  the  last  minute  or  two,  feeling  less  of  a 
victim  in  that  attitude,  and  more  able  to  calculate  on  means  of 
escape. 

"  Mr.  Holt,  sir,"  said  the  minister,  as  Felix  entered,  "  is  a 
young  friend  of  mine,  whose  opinions  on  some  points  I  hope 
to  see  altered,  but  who  has  a  zeal  for  public  justice  which  I 
trust  he  will  never  lose." 

"  I  am  glad  to  see  Mr.  Holt,"  said  Harold,  bowing.  He 
perceived  from  the  way  in  which  Felix  bowed  to  him  and 
turned  to  the  most  distant  spot  in  the  room,  that  the  candi- 
date's shake  of  the  hand  would  not  be  welcome  here.  "  A  for- 
midable fellow,"  he  thought,  "  capable  of  mounting  a  cart  in 
the  market-place  to-morrow  and  cross-examining  me,  if  I  say 
anything  that  does  n't  please  him." 

"  Mr.  Lyon,"  said  Felix,  "  I  have  taken  a  liberty  with  you 
in  asking  to  see  Mr.  Transome  when  he  is  engaged  with  you. 
But  I  have  to  speak  to  him  on  a  matter  which  I  should  n't 


FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL.  189 

care  to  make  public  at  present,  and  it  is  one  on  which  I  am 
sure  you  will  back  me.  I  heard  that  Mr.  Transome  was  here, 
so  I  ventured  to  come.  I  hope  you  will  both  excuse  me,  as 
my  business  refers  to  some  electioneering  measures  which  are 
being  taken  by  Mr.  Transome's  agents." 

"  Pray  go  on,"  said  Harold,  expecting  something  unpleasant. 

"  I  'm  not  going  to  speak  against  treating  voters,"  said 
Felix ;  "  I  suppose  buttered  ale,  and  grease  of  that  sort  to 
make  the  wheels  go,  belong  to  the  necessary  humbug  of 
Representation.  But  I  wish  to  ask  you,  Mr.  Transome, 
whether  it  is  with  your  knowledge  that  agents  of  yours  are 
bribing  rough  fellows  who  are  no  voters  —  the  colliers  and 
navvies  at  Sproxton  —  with  the  chance  of  extra  drunkenness, 
that  they  may  make  a  posse  on  your  side  at  the  nomination 
and  polling?" 

"Certainly  not,"  said  Harold.  "You  are  aware,  my  dear 
sir,  that  a  candidate  is  very  much  at  the  mercy  of  his  agents 
as  to  the  means  by  which  he  is  returned,  especially  when 
many  years'  absence  has  made  him  a  stranger  to  the  men 
actually  conducting  business.  But  are  you  sure  of  your 
facts  ?  " 

"As  sure  as  my  senses  can  make  me,"  said  Felix,  who  then 
briefly  described  what  had  happened  on  Sunday.  "I  be- 
lieved that  you  were  ignorant  of  all  this,  Mr.  Transome," 
he  ended,  "and  that  was  why  I  thought  some  good  might 
be  done  by  speaking  to  you.  If  not,  I  should  be  tempted  to 
expose  the  whole  affair  as  a  disgrace  to  the  Radical  party. 
I'm  a  Radical  myself,  and  mean  to  work  all  my  life  long 
against  privilege,  monopoly,  and  oppression.  But  I  would 
rather  be  a  livery-servant  proud  of  my  master's  title,  than  I 
would  seem  to  make  common  cause  with  scoundrels  who  turn 
the  best  hopes  of  men  into  bywords  for  cant  and  dishonesty." 

"  Your  energetic  protest  is  needless  here,  sir,"  said  Harold, 
offended  at  what  sounded  like  a  threat,  and  was  certainly 
premature  enough  to  be  in  bad  taste.  In  fact,  this  error  of 
behavior  in  Felix  proceeded  from  a  repulsion  which  was  mu- 
tual. It  was  a  constant  source  of  irritation  to  him  that  the 
public  men  on  his  side  were,  on  the  whole,  not  conspicuously 


190  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

better  than  the  public  men  on  the  other  side ;  that  the  spirit 
of  innovation,  which  with  him  was  a  part  of  religion,  was  in 
many  of  its  mouthpieces  no  more  of  a  religion  than  the  faith 
in  rotten  boroughs ;  and  he  was  thus  predisposed  to  distrust 
Harold  Transome.  Harold,  in  his  turn,  disliked  impracticable 
notions  of  loftiness  and  purity  —  disliked  all  enthusiasm ;  and 
he  thought  he  saw  a  very  troublesome,  vigorous  incorporation 
of  that  nonsense  in  Felix.  But  it  would  be  foolish  to  exas- 
perate him  in  any  way. 

"If  you  choose  to  accompany  me  to  Jermyn's  office,"  he 
went  on,  "  the  matter  shall  be  inquired  into  in  your  presence. 
I  think  you  will  agree  with  me,  Mr.  Lyon,  that  this  will  be 
the  most  satisfactory  course  ?  " 

"Doubtless,"  said  the  minister,  who  liked  the  candidate 
very  well,  and  believed  that  he  would  be  amenable  to  argu- 
ment ;  "  and  I  would  caution  my  young  friend  against  a  too 
great  hastiness  of  words  and  action.  David's  cause  against 
Saul  was  a  righteous  one  ;  nevertheless  not  all  who  clave  unto 
David  were  righteous  men." 

"  The  more  was  the  pity,  sir,"  said  Felix.  "  Especially  if 
he  winked  at  their  malpractices." 

Mr.  Lyon  smiled,  shook  his  head,  and  stroked  his  favorite's 
arm  deprecatingly. 

"  It  is  rather  too  much  for  any  man  to  keep  the  consciences 
of  all  his  party,"  said  Harold.  "  If  you  had  lived  in  the  East, 
as  I  have,  you  would  be  more  tolerant.  More  tolerant,  for 
example,  of  an  active  industrious  selfishness,  such  as  we  have 
here,  though  it  may  not  always  be  quite  scrupulous :  you 
would  see  how  much  better  it  is  than  an  idle  selfishness.  I 
have  heard  it  said,  a  bridge  is  a  good  thing  —  worth  helping  to 
make,  though  half  the  men  who  worked  at  it  were  rogues." 

"  Oh  yes ! "  said  Felix,  scornfully,  "  give  me  a  handful  of 
generalities  and  analogies,  and  I  '11  undertake  to  justify  Burke 
and  Hare,  and  prove  them  benefactors  of  their  species.  I  '11 
tolerate  no  nuisances  but  such  as  I  can't  help ;  and  the  ques- 
tion now  is,  not  whether  we  can  do  away  with  all  the  nui- 
sances in  the  world,  but  with  a  particular  nuisance  under  our 
noses." 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  191 

"  Then  we  had  better  cut  the  matter  short,  as  I  propose,  by 
going  at  once  to  Jermyn's,"  said  Harold.  "In  that  case,  I 
must  bid  you  good-morning,  Mr.  Lyon." 

" I  would  fain,"  said  the  minister,  looking  uneasy  —  "I 
would  fain  have  had  a  further  opportunity  of  considering  that 
question  of  the  ballot  with  you.  The  reasons  against  it  need 
not  be  urged  lengthily  ;  they  only  require  complete  enumera- 
tion to  prevent  any  seeming  hiatus,  where  an  opposing 
fallacy  might  thrust  itself  in." 

"Never  fear,  sir,"  said  Harold,  shaking  Mr.  Lyon's  hand 
cordially,  "  there  will  be  opportunities.  Shall  I  not  see  you 
in  the  committee-room  to-morrow  ? " 

"  I  think  not,"  said  Mr.  Lyon,  rubbing  his  brow,  with  a  sad 
remembrance  of  his  personal  anxieties.  "  But  I  will  send  you, 
if  you  will  permit  me,  a  brief  writing,  on  which  you  can  medi- 
tate at  your  leisure." 

"  I  shall  be  delighted.     Good-by." 

Harold  and  Felix  went  out  together ;  and  the  minister, 
going  up  to  his  dull  study,  asked  himself  whether,  under  the 
pressure  of  conflicting  experience,  he  had  faithfully  discharged 
the  duties  of  the  past  interview  ? 

If  a  cynical  sprite  were  present,  riding  on  one  of  the  motes 
in  that  dusty  room,  he  may  have  made  himself  merry  at  the 
illusions  of  the  little  minister  who  brought  so  much  con- 
science to  bear  on  the  production  of  so  slight  an  effect.  I 
confess  to  smiling  myself,  being  sceptical  as  to  the  effect  of 
ardent  appeals  and  nice  distinctions  on  gentlemen  who  are 
got  up,  both  inside  and  out,  as  candidates  in  the  style  of  the 
period ;  but  I  never  smiled  at  Mr.  Lyon's  trustful  energy 
without  falling  to  penitence  and  veneration  immediately  after. 
For  what  we  call  illusions  are  often,  in  truth,  a  wider  vision 
of  past  and  present  realities  —  a  willing  movement  of  a  man's 
soul  with  the  larger  sweep  of  the  world's  forces  —  a  movement 
towards  a  more  assured  end  than  the  chances  of  a  single  life. 
We  see  human  heroism  broken  into  units  and  say,  this  unit 
did  little  —  might  as  well  not  have  been.  But  in  this  way  we 
might  break  up  a  great  army  into  units ;  in  this  way  we  might 
break  the  sunlight  into  fragments,  and  think  that  this  and  the 


192  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL. 

other  might  be  cheaply  parted  with.  Let  us  rather  raise  a 
monument  to  the  soldiers  whose  brave  hearts  only  kept  the 
ranks  unbroken,  and  met  death  —  a  monument  to  the  faithful 
who  were  not  famous,  and  who  are  precious  as  the  continuity 
of  the  sunbeams  is  precious,  though  some  of  them  fall  unseen 
and  on  barrenness. 

At  present,  looking  back  on  that  day  at  Treby,  it  seems  to 
me  that  the  sadder  illusion  lay  with  Harold  Transome,  who 
was  trusting  in  his  own  skill  to  shape  the  success  of  his  own 
morrows,  ignorant  of  what  many  yesterdays  had  determined 
for  him  beforehand. 


CHAPTER  XVIL 

It  is  a  good  and  soothfast  saw ; 
Half -roasted  never  will  bo  raw ; 
No  dough  is  dried  once  more  to  meal, 
No  crock  new-shapen  by  the  wheel ; 
You  can't  turn  curds  to  milk  again, 
Nor  Now,  by  wishing,  back  to  Then ; 
And  having  tasted  stolen  honey, 
You  can't  buy  innocence  for  money. 

JERMTN  was  not  particularly  pleased  that  some  chance  had 
apparently  hindered  Harold  Transome  from  making  other 
canvassing  visits  immediately  after  leaving  Mr.  Lyon,  and  so 
had  sent  him  back  to  the  office  earlier  than  he  had  been  ex- 
pected to  come.  The  inconvenient  chance  he  guessed  at  once 
to  be  represented  by  Felix  Holt,  whom  he  knew  very  well  by 
Trebian  report  to  be  a  young  man  with  so  little  of  the  ordi- 
nary Christian  motives  as  to  making  an  appearance  and  getting 
on  in  the  world,  that  he  presented  no  handle  to  any  judicious 
and  respectable  person  who  might  be  willing  to  make  use  of 
him. 

Harold  Transome,  on  his  side,  was  a  good  deal  annoyed  at 
being  worried  by  Felix  into  an  inquiry  about  electioneering 


FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL.  193 

details.  The  real  dignity  and  honesty  there  was  in  him  made 
him  shrink  from  this  necessity  of  satisfying  a  man  with  a 
troublesome  tongue  ;  it  was  as  if  he  were  to  show  indignation 
at  the  discovery  of  one  barrel  with  a  false  bottom,  when  he 
had  invested  his  money  in  a  manufactory  where  a  larger  or 
smaller  number  of  such  barrels  had  always  been  made.  A 
practical  man  must  seek  a  good  end  by  the  only  possible 
means  ;  that  is  to  say,  if  he  is  to  get  into  Parliament  he  must 
not  be  too  particular.  It  was  not  disgraceful  to  be  neither  a 
Quixote  nor  a  theorist,  aiming  to  correct  the  moral  rules  of 
the  world ;  but  whatever  actually  was,  or  might  prove  to  be, 
disgraceful,  Harold  held  in  detestation.  In  this  mood  he 
pushed  on  unceremoniously  to  the  inner  office  without  waiting 
to  ask  questions  ;  and  when  he  perceived  that  Jermyn  was 
not  alone,  he  said,  with  haughty  quickness  — 

"  A  question  about  the  electioneering  at  Sproxton.  Can  you 
give  your  attention  to  it  at  once  ?  Here  is  Mr.  Holt,  who  has 
come  to  me  about  the  business." 

"  A  —  yes  —  a  —  certainly,"  said  Jermyn,  who,  as  usual, 
was  the  more  cool  and  deliberate  because  he  was  vexed.  He 
was  standing,  and,  as  he  turned  round,  his  broad  figure  con- 
cealed the  person  who  was  seated  writing  at  the  bureau. 
"  Mr.  Holt  —  a  —  will  doubtless  —  a  —  make  a  point  of  saving 
a  busy  man's  time.  You  can  speak  at  once.  This  gentleman  " 
—  here  Jermyn  made  a  slight  backward  movement  of  the 
head  —  "  is  one  of  ourselves  ;  he  is  a  true-blue." 

"  I  have  simply  to  complain,"  said  Felix,  "  that  one  of  your 
agents  has  been  sent  on  a  bribing  expedition  to  Sproxton  — 
with  what  purpose  you,  sir,  may  know  better  than  I  do.  Mr. 
Transome,  it  appears,  was  ignorant  of  the  affair,  and  does  not 
approve  it." 

Jermyn,  looking  gravely  and  steadily  at  Felix  while  he  was 
speaking,  at  the  same  time  drew  forth  a  small  sheaf  of  papers 
from  his  side-pocket,  and  then,  as  he  turned  his  eyes  slowly  on 
Harold,  felt  in  his  waistcoat-pocket  for  his  pencil-case. 

"  I  don't  approve  it  at  all,"  said  Harold,  who  hated  Jermyn's 
calculated  slowness   and  conceit  in  his  own  impenetrability. 
'-  Be  good  enough  to  put  a  stop  to  it,  will  you  ?  " 
VOL.  in.  }'•} 


194  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL. 

"Mr.  Holt,  I  know,  is  an  excellent  Liberal,"  said  Jermyn, 
just  inclining  his  head  to  Harold,  and  then  alternately  looking 
at  Felix  and  docketing  his  bills  ;  "  but  he  is  perhaps  too  inex- 
perienced to  be  aware  that  no  canvass  —  a  —  can  be  conducted 
without  the  action  of  able  men,  who  must  —  a  —  be  trusted, 
and  not  interfered  with.  And  as  to  any  possibility  of  promis- 
ing to  put  a  stop  —  a  —  to  any  procedure  —  a  —  that  depends. 
If  he  had  ever  held  the  coachman's  ribbons  in  his  hands,  as  I 
have  in  my  younger  days  —  a  —  he  would  know  that  stopping 
is  not  always  easy." 

"  I  know  very  little  about  holding  ribbons,"  said  Felix ;  "but 
I  saw  clearly  enough  at  once  that  more  mischief  had  been  done 
than  could  be  well  mended.  Though  I  believe,  if  it  were  heart- 
ily tried,  the  treating  might  be  reduced,  and  something  might 
be  done  to  hinder  the  men  from  turning  out  in  a  body  to  make 
a  noise,  which  might  end  in  worse." 

"  They  might  be  hindered  from  making  a  noise  on  our  side," 
said  Jermyn,  smiling.  "  That  is  perfectly  true.  But  if  they 
made  a  noise  on  the  other  —  would  your  purpose  be  answered 
better,  sir  ?  " 

Harold  was  moving  about  in  an  irritated  manner  while  Felix 
and  Jermyn  were  speaking.  He  preferred  leaving  the  talk  to 
the  attorney,  of  whose  talk  he  himself  liked  to  keep  as  clear 
as  possible. 

"  I  can  only  say,"  answered  Felix,  "  that  if  you  make  use  of 
those  heavy  fellows  when  the  drink  is  in  them,  I  should  n't 
like  your  responsibility.  You  might  as  well  drive  bulls 
to  roar  on  our  side  as  bribe  a  set  of  colliers  and  navvies  to 
shout  and  groan." 

"  A  lawyer  may  well  envy  your  command  of  language,  Mr. 
Holt,"  said  Jermyn,  pocketing  his  bills  again,  and  shutting 
up  his  pencil ;  "but  he  would  not  be  satisfied  with  the  accuracy 
—  a  —  of  your  terms.  You  must  permit  me  to  check  your  use 
of  the  word  '  bribery.'  The  essence  of  bribery  is,  that  it  should 
be  legally  proved  ;  there  is  not  such  a  thing  —  a  —  in  rerum 
natura  —  a — as  unproved  bribery.  There  has  been  no  such 
thing  as  bribery  at  Sproxton,  I  '11  answer  for  it.  The  presence 
of  a  body  of  stalwart  fellows  on  —  a  —  the  Liberal  side  will  tend 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  195 

to  preserve  order ;  for  we  know  that  the  benefit  clubs  from  the 
Pitchley  district  will  show  for  Debarry.  Indeed,  the  gentle- 
man who  has  conducted  the  canvass  at  Sproxton  is  experienced 
in  Parliamentary  affairs,  and  would  not  exceed  —  a  —  the  nec- 
essary measures  that  a  rational  judgment  would  dictate." 

"  What !  you  mean  the  man  who  calls  himself  Johnson  ?  " 
said  Felix,  in  a  tone  of  disgust. 

Before  Jermyn  chose  to  answer,  Harold  broke  in,  saying, 
quickly  and  peremptorily,  "  The  long  and  the  short  of  it  is 
this,  Mr.  Holt :  I  shall  desire  and  insist  that  whatever  can  be 
done  by  way  of  remedy  shall  be  done.  Will  that  satisfy  you  ? 
You  see  now  some  of  a  candidate's  difficulties  ?  "  said  Harold, 
breaking  into  his  most  agreeable  smile.  "  I  hope  you  will  have 
some  pity  for  me." 

"I  suppose  I  must  be  content,"  said  Felix,  not  thoroughly 
propitiated.  "  I  bid  you  good  morning,  gentlemen." 

When  he  was  gone  out,  and  had  closed  the  door  behind  him, 
Harold,  turning  round  and  flashing,  in  spite  of  himself,  an 
angry  look  at  Jermyn,  said  — 

"  And  who  is  Johnson  ?  an  alias,  I  suppose.  It  seems  you 
are  fond  of  the  name." 

Jermyn  turned  perceptibly  paler,  biit  disagreeables  of  this 
sort  between  himself  and  Harold  had  been  too  much  in  his  an- 
ticipations of  late  for  him  to  be  taken  by  surprise.  He  turned 
quietly  round  and  just  touched  the  shoulder  of  the  person 
seated  at  the  bureau,  who  now  rose. 

"  On  the  contrary,"  Jermyn  answered,  "  the  Johnson  in  ques- 
tion is  this  gentleman,  whom  I  have  the  pleasure  of  introdu- 
cing to  you  as  one  of  my  most  active  helpmates  in  electioneering 
business  —  Mr.  Johnson,  of  Bedford  Row,  London.  I  am  com- 
paratively a  novice  —  a  —  in  these  matters.  But  he  was  engaged 
with  James  Putty  in  two  hardly  contested  elections,  and  there 
could  scarcely  be  a  better  initiation.  Putty  is  one  of  the  first 
men  of  the  country  as  an  agent  —  a  —  on  the  Liberal  side  —  a 
—  eh,  Johnson  ?  I  think  Makepiece  is  —  a  —  not  altogether  a 
match  for  him,  not  quite  of  the  same  calibre  —  a  —  haud  con- 
simili  ingenio  —  a  —  in  tactics  —  a  —  and  in  experience  ?  " 

"  Makepiece  is  a  wonderful  man,  and  so  is  Putty,"  said  the 


196  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL. 

glib  Johnson,  too  vain  not  to  be  pleased  with  an  opportunity 
of  speaking,  even  when  the  situation  was  rather  awkward. 
"  Makepiece  for  scheming,  but  Putty  for  management.  Putty 
knows  men,  sir,'-'  he  went  on,  turning  to  Harold ;  "  it 's  a  thou- 
sand pities  that  you  have  not  had  his  talents  employed  in  your 
service.  He 's  beyond  any  man  for  saving  a  candidate's  money 
—  does  half  the  work  with  his  tongue.  He  '11  talk  of  anything, 
from  the  Areopagus,  and  that  sort  of  thing,  down  to  the  joke 
about  '  Where  are  you  going,  Paddy  ? '  —  you  know  what  I 
mean,  sir !  '  Back  again,  says  Paddy  '  —  an  excellent  election- 
eering joke.  Putty  understands  these  things.  He  has  said  to 
me,  '  Johnson,  bear  in  mind  there  are  two  ways  of  speaking  an 
audience  will  always  like :  one  is,  to  tell  them  what  they  don't 
understand ;  and  the  other  is,  to  tell  them  what  they  're  used 
to.'  I  shall  never  be  the  man  to  deny  that  I  owe  a  great  deal 
to  Putty.  I  always  say  it  was  a  most  providential  thing  in  the 
Mugham  election  last  year  that  Putty  was  not  on  the  Tory 
side.  He  managed  the  women ;  and,  if  you  '11  believe  me,  sir, 
one  fourth  of  the  men  would  never  have  voted  if  their  wives 
had  n't  driven  them  to  it  for  the  good  of  their  families.  And 
as  for  speaking  —  it 's  currently  reported  in  our  London  circles 
that  Putty  writes  regularly  for  the  '  Times.'  He  has  that  kind 
of  language  ;  and  I  need  n't  tell  you,  Mr.  Transonic,  that  it's 
the  apex,  which,  I  take  it,  means  the  tiptop  —  and  nobody  can 
get  higher  than,  that,  I  think.  I  've  belonged  to  a  political  de- 
bating society  myself ;  I  've  heard  a  little  language  in  my  time ; 
but  when  Mr.  Jermyn  first  spoke  to  me  about  having  the  honor 
to  assist  in  your  canvass  of  North  Loamshire  "  —  here  Johnson 
played  with  his  watch-seals  and  balanced  himself  a  moment  on 
his  toes  —  "  the  very  first  thing  I  said  was,  '  And  there 's  Gar- 
stin  has  got  Putty !  No  Whig  could  stand  against  a  Whig,'  I 
said,  <  who  had  Putty  on  his  side  :  I  hope  Mr.  Transome  goes 
in  for  something  of  a  deeper  color.'  I  don't  say  that,  as  a  gen- 
eral rule,  opinions  go  for  much  in  a  return,  Mr.  Transome  ;  it 
depends  on  who  are  in  the  field  before  you,  and  on  the  skill  of 
your  agents.  But  as  a  radical,  and  a  moneyed  Kadical,  you 
are  in  a  fine  position,  sir ;  and  with  care  and  judgment  —  with 
care  and  judgment  —  " 


FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL.  197 

It  had  been  impossible  to  interrupt  Johnson  before,  without 
the  most  impolitic  rudeness.  Jermyn  was  not  sorry  that  he 
should  talk,  even  if  he  made  a  fool  of  himself;  for  in  that 
solid  shape,  exhibiting  the  average  amount  of  human  foibles, 
he  seemed  less  of  the  alias  which  Harold  had  insinuated  him 
to  be,  and  had  all  the  additional  plausibility  of  a  lie  with  a 
circumstance. 

Harold  had  thrown  himself  with  contemptuous  resignation 
into  a  chair,  had  drawn  off  one  of  his  buff  gloves,  and  was 
looking  at  his  hand.  But  when  Johnson  gave  his  iteration 
with  a  slightly  slackened  pace,  Harold  looked  up  at  him  and 
broke  in  — 

"  Well  then,  Mr.  Johnson,  I  shall  be  glad  if  you  will  use 
your  care  and  judgment  in  putting  an  end,  as  well  as  you 
can,  to  this  Sproxton  affair ;  else  it  may  turn  out  an  ugly 
business." 

"  Excuse  me,  sir ;  I  must  beg  you  to  look  at  the  matter  a 
little  more  closely.  You  will  see  that  it  is  impossible  to  take 
a  single  step  backward  at  Sproxton.  It  was  a  matter  of 
necessity  to  get  the  Sproxton  men  ;  else  I  know  to  a  certainty 
the  other  side  would  have  laid  hold  of  them  first,  and  now 
I  've  undermined  Garstin's  people.  They  '11  use  their  author- 
ity, and  give  a  little  shabby  treating,  but  I  've  taken  all  the 
wind  out  of  their  sails.  But  if,  by  your  orders,  I  or  Mr.  Jer- 
myn  here  were  to  break  promise  with  the  honest  fellows,  and 
offend  Chubb  the  publican,  what  would  come  of  it  ?  Chubb 
would  leave  no  stone  unturned  against  you,  sir ;  he  would  egg 
on  his  customers  against  you ;  the  colliers  and  navvies  would 
be  at  the  nomination  and  at  the  election  all  the  same,  or  rather 
not  all  the  same,  for  they  would  be  there  against  us  ;  and 
instead  of  hustling  people  good-humoredly  by  way  of  a  joke, 
and  counterbalancing  Debarry's  cheers,  they  'd  help  to  kick 
the  cheering  and  the  voting  out  of  our  men,  and  instead  of 
being,  let  us  say,  half-a-dozen  ahead  of  Garstin,  you  'd  be  half- 
a-dozen  behind  him,  that's  all.  I  speak  plain  English  to  you, 
Mr.  Transome,  though  I  've  the  highest  respect  for  you  as  a 
gentleman  of  first-rate  talents  and  position.  But,  sir,  to  judge 
of  these  things  a  man  must  know  the  English  voter  and  the 


198  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

English  publican;  and  it  would  be  a  poor  tale  indeed" — hero 
Mr.  Johnson's  niouth  took  an  expression  at  once  bitter  and 
pathetic  —  "  that  a  gentleman  like  you,  to  say  nothing  of  the 
good  of  the  country,  should  have  gone  to  the  expense  and 
trouble  of  a  canvass  for  nothing  but  to  find  himself  out  of 
Parliament  at  the  end  of  it.  I  've  seen  it  again  and  again ;  it 
looks  bad  in  the  cleverest  man  to  have  to  sing  small." 

Mr.  Johnson's  argument  was  not  the  less  stringent  because 
his  idioms  were  vulgar.  It  requires  a  conviction  and  resolu- 
tion amounting  to  heroism  not  to  wince  at  phrases  that  class 
our  foreshadowed  endurance  among  those  common  and  igno- 
minious troubles  which  the  world  is  more  likely  to  sneer  at  than 
to  pity.  Harold  remained  a  few  moments  in  angry  silence 
looking  at  the  floor,  with  one  hand  on  his  knee  and  the  other 
on  his  hat,  as  if  he  were  preparing  to  start  up. 

"As  to  undoing  anything  that's  been  done  down  there," 
said  Johnson,  throwing  in  this  observation  as  something  into 
the  bargain,  "  I  must  wash  my  hands  of  it,  sir.  I  could  n't 
work  knowingly  against  your  interest.  And  that  young  man 
who  is  just  gone  out, — you  don't  believe  that  he  need  be 
listened  to,  I  hope  ?  Chubb,  the  publican,  hates  him.  Chubb 
would  guess  he  was  at  the  bottom  of  your  having  the  treating 
stopped,  and  he  'd  set  half-a-dozen  of  the  colliers  to  duck  him 
in  the  canal,  or  break  his  head  by  mistake.  I  'm  an  experi- 
enced man,  sir.  I  hope  I  've  put  it  clear  enough." 

"  Certainly,  the  exposition  befits  the  subject,"  said  Harold, 
scornfully,  his  dislike  of  the  man  Johnson's  personality  being 
stimulated  by  causes  which  Jermyn  more  than  conjectured. 
"  It 's  a  damned,  unpleasant,  ravelled  business  that  you  and 
Mr.  Jermyn  have  knit  up  between  you.  I  've  no  more  to  say." 

"Then,  sir,  if  you've  no  more  commands,  I  don't  wish  to 
intrude.  I  shall  wish  you  good  morning,  sir,"  said  Johnson, 
passing  out  quickly. 

Harold  knew  that  he  was  indulging  his  temper,  and  he 
would  probably  have  restrained  it  as  a  foolish  move  if  he 
had  thought  there  was  great  danger  in  it.  But  he  was  begin- 
ning to  drop  much  of  his  caution  and  self-mastery  where  Jer- 
myn was  concerned,  under  the  growing  conviction  that  the 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  199 

attorney  had  very  strong  reasons  for  being  afraid  of  him ; 
reasons  which  would  only  be  reinforced  by  any  action  hostile 
to  the  Transome  interest.  As  for  a  sneak  like  this  Johnson, 
a  gentleman  had  to  pay  him,  not  to  please  him.  Harold  had 
smiles  at  command  in  the  right  place,  but  he  was  not  going 
to  smile  when  it  was  neither  necessary  nor  agreeable.  He 
was  one  of  those  good-humored,  yet  energetic  men,  who  have 
the  gift  of  anger,  hatred,  and  scorn  upon  occasion,  though  they 
are  too  healthy  and  self-contented  for  such  feelings  to  get 
generated  in  them  without  external  occasion.  And  in  relation 
to  Jermyn  the  gift  was  coming  into  fine  exercise. 

"A  —  pardon  me,  Mr.  Harold,"  said  Jermyn,  speaking  as 
soon  as  Johnson  went  out,  "but  I  am  sorry  —  a  —  you  should 
behave  disobligingly  to  a  man  who  has  it  in  his  power  to  do 
much  service  —  who,  in  fact,  holds  many  threads  in  his  hands. 
I  admit  that  —  a  —  nemo  mortalium  omnibus  horis  sapit,  as 
we  say  —  a  —  " 

"  Speak  for  yourself,"  said  Harold.  "  I  don't  talk  in  tags  of 
Latin,  which  might  be  learned  by  a  schoolmaster's  footboy. 
I  find  the  King's  English  express  my  meaning  better." 

"  In  the  King's  English,  then,"  said  Jermyn,  who  could  be 
idiomatic  enough  when  he  was  stung,  "a  candidate  should 
keep  his  kicks  till  he's  a  member." 

"  Oh,  I  suppose  Johnson  will  bear  a  kick  if  you  bid  him. 
You  're  his  principal,  I  believe." 

"  Certainly,  thus  far  —  a  —  he  is  my  London  agent.  But  he 
is  a  man  of  substance,  and  —  " 

"  I  shall  know  what  he  is  if  it 's  necessary,  I  dare  say.  But 
I  must  jump  into  the  carriage  again.  I  've  no  time  to  lose ;  I 
must  go  to  Hawkins  at  the  factory.  Will  you  go  ?  " 

"When  Harold  was  gone,  Jermyn's  handsome  face  gathered 
blackness.  He  hardly  ever  wore  his  worst  expression  in  the 
presence  of  others,  and  but  seldom  when  he  was  alone,  for  he 
was  not  given  to  believe  that  any  game  would  ultimately  go 
against  him.  His  luck  had  been  good.  New  conditions  might 
always  turn  up  to  give  him  new  chances ;  and  if  affairs  threat- 
ened to  come  to  an  extremity  between  Harold  and  himself,  he 
trusted  to  finding  some  sure  resource. 


200  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL. 

"He  means  to  see  to  the  bottom  of  everything  if  he  can, 
that 's  quite  plain,"  said  Jermyn  to  himself.  "  I  believe  he 
has  been  getting  another  opinion ;  he  has  some  new  light 
about  those  annuities  on  the  estate  that  are  held  in  Johnson's 
name.  He  has  inherited  a  deuced  faculty  for  business  — 
there's  no  denying  that.  But  I  shall  beg  leave  to  tell  him 
that  I  've  propped  up  the  family.  I  don't  know  where  they 
would  have  been  without  me ;  and  if  it  comes  to  balancing, 
I  know  into  which  scale  the  gratitude  ought  to  go.  ]S"ot  that 
he  's  likely  to  feel  any  —  but  he  can  feel  something  else ;  and 
if  he  makes  signs  of  setting  the  dogs  on  me,  I  shall  make  him 
feel  it.  The  people  named  Transome  owe  me  a  good  deal 
more  than  I  owe  them." 

In  this  way  Mr.  Jermyn  inwardly  appealed  against  an  un- 
just construction  which  he  foresaw  that  his  old  acquaintance 
the  Law  might  put  on  certain  items  in  his  history. 

I  have  known  persons  who  have  been  suspected  of  under- 
valuing gratitude,  and  excluding  it  from  the  list  of  virtues; 
but  on  closer  observation  it  has  been  seen  that,  if  they  have 
never  felt  grateful,  it  has  been  for  want  of  an  opportunity ; 
and  that,  far  from  despising  gratitude,  they  regard  it  as  the 
virtue  most  of  all  incumbent  —  on  others  towards  them. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

The  little,  nameless,  unremembered  acts 
Of  kindness  and  of  love. 

WORDSWORTH  :  Tintern  Abbey. 

JERMYN  did  not  forget  to  pay  his  visit  to  the  minister  in 
Malthouse  Yard  that  evening.  The  mingled  irritation,  dread, 
and  defiance  which  he  was  feeling  towards  Harold  Transome 
in  the  middle  of  the  day,  depended  on  too  many  and  far- 
stretching  causes  to  be  dissipated  by  eight  o'clock ;  but  when 
he  left  Mr.  Lyon's  house  he  was  in  a  state  of  comparative 


FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL.  201 

triumph  in  the  belief  that  he,  and  he  alone,  was  now  in  posses- 
sion of  facts  which,  once  grouped  together,  made  a  secret  that 
gave  him  new  power  over  Harold. 

Mr.  Lyon,  in  his  need  for  help  from  one  who  had  that  wisdom 
of  the  serpent  which,  he  argued,  is  not  forbidden,  but  is  only 
of  hard  acquirement  to  dove-like  innocence,  had  been  gradu- 
ally led  to  pour  out  to  the  attorney  all  the  reasons  which  made 
him  desire  to  know  the  truth  about  the  man  who  called  him- 
self Maurice  Christian :  he  had  shown  all  the  precious  relics, 
the  locket,  the  letters,  and  the  marriage  certificate.  And  Jer- 
myn  had  comforted  him  by  confidently  promising  to  ascertain, 
without  scandal  or  premature  betrayals,  whether  this  man 
were  really  Annette's  husband,  Maurice  Christian  Bycliffe. 

Jermyn  was  not  rash  in  making  this  promise,  since  he  had 
excellent  reasons  for  believing  that  he  had  already  come  to 
a  true  conclusion  on  the  subject.  But  he  wished  both  to 
know  a  little  more  of  this  man  himself,  and  to  keep  Mr. 
Lyon  in  ignorance  —  not  a  difficult  precaution  —  in  an  affair 
which  it  cost  the  minister  so  much  pain  to  speak  of.  An 
easy  opportunity  of  getting  an  interview  with  Christian  was 
sure  to  offer  itself  before  long  —  might  even  offer  itself  to- 
morrow. Jermyn  had  seen  him  more  than  once,  though  hith- 
erto without  any  reason  for  observing  him  with  interest ; 
he  had  heard  that  Philip  Debarry's  courier  was  often  busy  in 
the  town,  and  it  seemed  especially  likely  that  he  would  be 
seen  there  when  the  Market  was  to  be  agitated  by  politics,  and 
the  new  candidate  was  to  show  his  paces. 

The  world  of  which  Treby  Magna  was  the  centre  was  natu- 
rally curious  to  see  the  young  Transome,  who  had  come  from 
the  East,  was  as  rich  as  a  Jew,  and  called  himself  a  Radical : 
characteristics  all  equally  vague  in  the  minds  of  various  excel- 
lent rate-payers,  who  drove  to  market  in  their  taxed  carts,  or 
in  their  hereditary  gigs.  Places  at  convenient  windows  had 
been  secured  beforehand  for  a  few  best  bonnets  ;  but,  in  gen- 
eral, a  Radical  candidate  excited  no  ardent  feminine  partisan- 
ship, even  among  the  Dissenters  in  Treby,  if  they  were  of  the 
prosperous  and  long-resident  class.  Some  chapel-going  ladies 
were  fond  of  remembering  that  "  their  family  had  been 


202  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL. 

Church ; "  others  objected  to  politics  altogether  as  having  spoiled 
old  neighborliness,  and  sundered  friends  who  had  kindred 
views  as  to  cowslip  wine  and  Michaelmas  cleaning ;  others,  of 
the  melancholy  sort,  said  it  would  be  well  if  people  would 
think  less  of  reforming  Parliament  and  more  of  pleasing  God. 
Irreproachable  Dissenting  matrons,  like  Mrs.  Muscat,  whose 
youth  had  been  passed  in  a  short-waisted  bodice  and  tight 
skirt,  had  never  been  animated  by  the  struggle  for  liberty,  and 
had  a  timid  suspicion  that  religion  was  desecrated  by  being 
applied  to  the  things  of  this  world.  Since  Mr.  Lyon  had  been 
in  Malthouse  Yard  there  had  been  far  too  much  mixing  up  of 
politics  with  religion ;  but,  at  any  rate,  these  ladies  had  never 
yet  been  to  hear  speechifying  in  the  market-place,  and  they 
were  not  going  to  begin  that  practice. 

Esther,  however,  had  heard  some  of  her  feminine  acquaint- 
ances say  that  they  intended  to  sit  at  the  druggist's  upper 
window,  and  she  was  inclined  to  ask  her  father  if  he  could 
think  of  a  suitable  place  where  she  also  might  see  and  hear. 
Two  inconsistent  motives  urged  her.  She  knew  that  Felix  cared 
earnestly  for  all  public  questions,  and  she  supposed  that  he  held 
it  one  of  her  deficiencies  not  to  care  about  them  :  well,  she  would 
try  to  learn  the  secret  of  this  ardor,  which  was  so  strong  in  him 
that  it  animated  what  she  thought  the  dullest  form  of  life.  She 
was  not  too  stupid  to  find  it  out.  But  this  self-correcting  motive 
was  presently  displaced  by  a  motive  of  a  different  sort.  It  had 
been  a  pleasant  variety  in  her  monotonous  days  to  see  a  man  like 
Harold  Transome,  with  a  distinguished  appearance  and  polished 
manners,  and  she  would  like  to  see  him  again :  he  suggested  to 
her  that  brighter  and  more  luxurious  life  on  which  her  imagina- 
tion dwelt  without  the  painful  effort  it  required  to  conceive  the 
mental  condition  which  would  place  her  in  complete  sympathy 
with  Felix  Holt.  It  was  this  less  unaccustomed  prompting  of 
which  she  was  chiefly  conscious  when  she  awaited  her  father's 
coming  down  to  breakfast.  Why,  indeed,  should  she  trouble 
herself  so  much  about  Felix  ? 

Mr.  Lyon,  more  serene  now  that  he  had  unbosomed  his  anxi- 
eties and  obtained  a  promise  of  help,  was  already  swimming 
so  happily  in  the  deep  water  of  polemics  in  expectation  of 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  203 

Philip  Debarry's  answer  to  his  challenge,  that,  in  the  occupa- 
tion of  making  a  few  notes  lest  certain  felicitous  inspirations 
should  be  wasted,  he  had  forgotten  to  come  down  to  breakfast. 
Esther,  suspecting  his  abstraction,  went  up  to  his  study, 
and  found  him  at  his  desk  looking  up  with  wonder  at  her 
interruption. 

"  Come,  father,  you  have  forgotten  your  breakfast." 

"  It  is  true,  child ;  I  will  come,"  he  said,  lingering  to  make 
some  final  strokes. 

"  Oh,  you  naughty  father !  "  said  Esther,  as  he  got  up  from  his 
chair,  "  your  coat-collar  is  twisted,  your  waistcoat  is  buttoned 
all  wrong,  and  you  have  not  brushed  your  hair.  Sit  down  and 
let  me  brush  it  again  as  I  did  yesterday." 

He  sat  down  obediently,  while  Esther  took  a  towel,  which 
she  threw  over  his  shoulders,  and  then  brushed  the  thick  long 
fringe  of  soft  auburn  hair.  This  very  trifling  act,  which  she 
had  brought  herself  to  for  the  first  time  yesterday,  meant  a 
great  deal  in  Esther's  little  history.  It  had  been  her  habit  to 
leave  the  mending  of  her  father's  clothes  to  Lyddy ;  she  had  not 
liked  even  to  touch  his  cloth  garments  ;  still  less  had  it  seemed 
a  thing  she  would  willingly  undertake  to  correct  his  toilet, 
and  use  a  brush  for  him.  But  having  once  done  this,  under 
her  new  sense  of  faulty  omission,  the  affectionateness  that 
was  in  her  flowed  so  pleasantly,  as  she  saw  how  much  her 
father  was  moved  by  what  he  thought  a  great  act  of  tenderness, 
that  she  quite  longed  to  repeat  it.  This  morning,  as  he  sat 
under  her  hands,  his  face  had  such  a  calm  delight  in  it  that 
she  could  not  help  kissing  the  top  of  his  bald  head ;  and  after- 
wards, when  they  were  seated  at  breakfast,  she  said,  merrily  — 

"  Father,  I  shall  make  a  petit  mcritre  of  you  by-and-by ;  your 
hair  looks  so  pretty  and  silken  when  it  is  well  brushed." 

"  Xay,  child,  I  trust  that  while  I  would  willingly  depart 
from  my  evil  habit  of  a  somewhat  slovenly  forgetfulness  in  my 
attire,  I  shall  never  arrive  at  the  opposite  extreme.  For 
though  there  is  that  in  apparel  which  pleases  the  eye,  and  I 
deny  not  that  your  neat  gown  and  the  color  thereof  —  which 
is  that  of  certain  little  flowers  that  spread  themselves  in  the 
hedgerows,  and  make  a  blueness  there  as  of  the  sky  when  it  is 


204  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL. 

deepened  in  the  water,  —  I  deny  not,  I  say,  that  these  minor 
strivings  after  a  perfection  which  is,  as  it  were,  an  irrecoverable 
yet  haunting  memory,  are  a  good  in  their  proportion.  Never- 
theless, the  brevity  of  our  life,  and  the  hurry  and  crush  of  the 
great  battle  with  error  and  sin,  often  oblige  us  to  an  advised 
neglect  of  what  is  less  momentous.  This,  I  conceive,  is  the 
principle  on  which  my  friend  Felix  Holt  acts  ;  and  I  cannot 
but  think  the  light  comes  from  the  true  fount,  though  it  shines 
through  obstructions." 

"  You  have  not  seen  Mr.  Holt  since  Sunday,  have  you, 
father  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  he  was  here  yesterday.  He  sought  Mr.  Transome, 
having  a  matter  of  some  importance  to  speak  upon  with  him. 
And  I  saw  him  afterward  in  the  street,  when  he  agreed  that  I 
should  call  for  him  this  morning  before  I  go  into  the  market- 
place. He  will  have  it,"  Mr.  Lyon  went  on,  smiling,  "that  I 
must  not  walk  about  in  the  crowd  without  him  to  act  as  my 
special  constable." 

Esther  felt  vexed  with  herself  that  her  heart  was  suddenly 
beating  with  unusual  quickness,  and  that  her  last  resolution  not 
to  trouble  herself  about  what  Felix  thought,  had  transformed 
itself  with  magic  swiftness  into  mortification  that  he  evidently 
avoided  coming  to  the  house  when  she  was  there,  though  he 
used  to  come  on  the  slightest  occasion.  He  knew  that  she 
was  always  at  home  until  the  afternoon  on  market-days ;  that 
was  the  reason  why  he  would  not  call  for  her  father.  Of 
course,  it  was  because  he  attributed  such  littleness  to  her  that 
he  supposed  she  would  retain  nothing  else  than  a  feeling  of 
offence  towards  him  for  what  he  had  said  to  her.  Such  distrust 
of  any  good  in  others,  such  arrogance  of  immeasurable  superi- 
ority, was  extremely  ungenerous.  But  presently  she  said  — 

"I  should  have  liked  to  hear  Mr.  Transome  speak,  but  I 
suppose  it  is  too  late  to  get  a  place  now." 

"  I  am  not  sure ;  I  would  fain  have  you  go  if  you  desire  it, 
my  dear,"  said  Mr.  Lyon,  who  could  not  bear  to  deny  Esther 
any  lawful  wish.  "  Walk  with  me  to  Mistress  Holt's,  and  we 
will  learn  from  Felix,  who  will  doubtless  already  have  been 
out,  whether  he  could  lead  you  in  safety  to  Friend  Lambert's." 


FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL.  205 

Esther  was  glad  of  the  proposal,  because,  if  it  answered  no 
other  purpose,  it  would  be  an  easy  way  of  obliging  Felix  to 
see  her,  and  of  showing  him  that  it  was  not  she  who  cherished 
offence.  But  when,  later  in  the  morning,  she  was  walking 
towards  Mrs.  Holt's  with  her  father,  they  met  Mr.  Jermyn, 
who  stopped  them  to  ask,  in  his  most  affable  manner,  whether 
Miss  Lyon  intended  to  hear  the  candidate,  and  whether  she 
had  secured  a  suitable  place.  And  he  ended  by  insisting  that 
his  daughters,  who  were  presently  coming  in  an  open  carriage, 
should  call  for  her,  if  she  would  permit  them.  It  was  impos- 
sible to  refuse  this  civility,  and  Esther  turned  back  to  await 
the  carriage,  pleased  with  the  certainty  of  hearing  and  seeing, 
yet  sorry  to  miss  Felix.  There  was  another  day  for  her  to  think 
of  him  with  unsatisfied  resentment,  mixed  with  some  longings 
for  a  better  understanding;  and  in  our  spring-time  every  day 
has  its  hidden  growths  in  the  mind,  as  it  has  in  the  earth  when 
the  little  folded  blades  are  getting  ready  to  pierce  the  ground. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

Consistency  ?  —  I  never  changed  my  mind, 
Which  is,  and  always  was,  to  live  at  ease. 

IT  was  only  in  the  time  of  the  summer  fairs  that  the  mar- 
ket-place had  ever  looked  more  animated  than  it  did  under 
that  autumn  mid-day  sun.  There  were  plenty  of  blue  cock- 
ades and  streamers,  faces  at  all  the  windows,  and  a  crushing 
buzzing  crowd,  urging  each  other  backwards  and  forwards 
round  the  small  hustings  in  front  of  the  Earn  Inn,  which 
showed  its  more  plebeian  sign  at  right  angles  with  the  ven- 
erable Marquis  of  Granby.  Sometimes  there  were  scornful 
shouts,  sometimes  a  rolling  cascade  of  cheers,  sometimes  the 
shriek  of  a  penny  whistle ;  but  above  all  these  fitful  and  feeble 
sounds,  the  fine  old  church-tower,  which  looked  down  from 


206  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

above  the  trees  on  the  other  side  of  the  narrow  stream,  sent 
vibrating,  at  every  quarter,  the  sonorous  tones  of  its  great 
bell,  the  Good  Queen  Bess. 

Two  carriages,  with  blue  ribbons  on  the  harness,  were  con- 
spicuous near  the  hustings.  One  was  Jermyn's,  filled  with  the 
brilliantly  attired  daughters,  accompanied  by  Esther,  whose 
quieter  dress  helped  to  mark  her  out  for  attention  as  the  most 
striking  of  the  group.  The  other  was  Harold  Transome's; 
but  in  this  there  was  no  lady  —  only  the  olive-skinned  Dom- 
inic, whose  acute  yet  mild  face  was  brightened  by  the  occupa- 
tion of  amusing  little  Harry  and  rescuing  from  his  tyrannies 
a  King  Charles  puppy,  with  big  eyes,  much  after  the  pattern 
of  the  boy's. 

This  Trebian  crowd  did  not  count  for  much  in  the  political 
force  of  the  nation,  but  it  was  not  the  less  determined  as  to 
lending  or  not  lending  its  ears.  No  man  was  permitted  to 
speak  from  the  platform  except  Harold  and  his  uncle  Lingon, 
though,  in  the  interval  of  expectation,  several  Liberals  had 
come  forward.  Among  these  ill-advised  persons  the  one  whose 
attempt  met  the  most  emphatic  resistance  was  Rufus  Lyon. 
This  might  have  been  taken  for  resentment  at  the  unreasona- 
bleness of  the  cloth,  that,  not  content  with  pulpits,  from 
whence  to  tyrannize  over  the  ears  of  men,  wishes  to  have 
the  larger  share  of  the  platforms ;  but  it  was  not  so,  for  Mr. 
Lingon  was  heard  with  much  cheering,  and  would  have  been 
welcomed  again. 

The  Rector  of  Little  Treby  had  been  a  favorite  in  the  neigh- 
borhood since  the  beginning  of  the  century.  A  clergyman 
thoroughly  unclerical  in  his  habits  had  a  piquancy  about  him 
which  made  him  a  sort  of  practical  joke.  He  had  always  been 
called  Jack  Lingon,  or  Parson  Jack  —  sometimes,  in  older 
and  less  serious  days,  even  "  Cock-fighting  Jack."  He  swore  a 
little  when  the  point  of  a  joke  seemed  to  demand  it,  and  was 
fond  of  wearing  a  colored  bandana  tied  loosely  over  his  cravat, 
together  with  large  brown  leather  leggings ;  he  spoke  in  a 
pithy  familiar  way  that  people  could  understand,  and  had 
none  of  that  frigid  mincingness  called  dignity,  which  some 
have  thought  a  peculiar  clerical  disease.  In  fact,  he  was  "  a 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  207 

charicter"  —  something  cheerful  to  think  of,  not  entirely  out 
of  connection  with  Sunday  and  sermons.  And  it  seemed  in 
keeping  that  he  should  have  turned  sharp  round  in  politics, 
his  opinions  being  only  part  of  the  excellent  joke  called  Parson 
Jack.  When  his  red  eagle  face  and  white  hair  were  seen  on 
the  platform,  the  Dissenters  hardly  cheered  this  questionable 
Radical ;  but  to  make  amends,  all  the  Tory  farmers  gave  him 
a  friendly  "  hurray."  "  Let 's  hear  what  old  Jack  will  say  for 
himself,"  was  the  predominant  feeling  among  them ;  "  he  '11 
have  something  funny  to  say,  I  '11  bet  a  penny." 

It  was  only  Lawyer  Labron's  young  clerks  and  their  hangers- 
on  who  were  sufficiently  dead  to  Trebian  traditions  to  assail 
the  parson  with  various  sharp-edged  interjections,  such  as 
broken  shells,  and  cries  of  "  Cock-a-doodle-doo." 

"  Come  now,  my  lads,"  he  began,  in  his  full,  pompous,  yet 
jovial  tones,  thrusting  his  hands  into  the  stuffed-out  pockets 
of  his  great-coat,  "  I  '11  tell  you  what ;  I  'm  a  parson,  you  know ; 
I  ought  to  return  good  for  evil.  So  here  are  some  good  nuts 
for  you  to  crack  in  return  for  your  shells." 

There  was  a  roar  of  laughter  and  cheering  as  he  threw  hand- 
fuls  of  nuts  and  filberts  among  the  crowd. 

"  Come  now,  you  '11  say  I  used  to  be  a  Tory ;  and  some  of 
you,  whose  faces  I  know  as  well  as  I  know  the  head  of  my 
own  crab-stick,  will  say  that 's  why  I  'm  a  good  fellow.  But 
now  I  '11  tell  you  something  else.  It 's  for  that  very  reason  — 
that  I  used  to  be  a  Tory,  and  am  a  good  fellow  —  that  I  go 
along  with  my  nephew  here,  who  is  a  thorough-going  Liberal. 
For  will  anybody  here  come  forward  and  say,  '  A  good  fellow 
has  no  need  to  tack  about  and  change  his  road '  ?  No,  there 's 
not  one  of  you  such  a  Tom-noddy.  What 's  good  for  one  time 
is  bad  for  another.  If  anybody  contradicts  that,  ask  him  to 
eat  pickled  pork  when  he  's  thirsty,  and  to  bathe  in  the  Lapp 
there  when  the  spikes  of  ice  are  shooting.  And  that 's  the 
reason  why  the  men  who  are  the  best  Liberals  now  are  the 
very  men  who  used  to  be  the  best  Tories.  There  is  n't  a 
nastier  horse  than  your  horse  that  '11  jib  and  back  and  turn 
round  when  there  is  but  one  road  for  him  to  go,  and  that 's 
the  road  before  him. 


208  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL. 

"And  my  nephew  here  —  he  comes  of  a  Tory  breed,  you 
know  —  I  '11  answer  for  the  Lingons.  In  the  old  Tory  times 
there  was  never  a  pup  belonging  to  a  Lingon  but  would  howl 
if  a  Whig  came  near  him.  The  Lingon  blood  is  good,  rich, 
old  Tory  blood  —  like  good  rich  milk  —  and  that's  why,  when 
the  right  time  comes,  it  throws  up  a  Liberal  cream.  The  best 
sort  of  Tory  turns  to  the  best  sort  of  Radical.  There 's  plenty 
of  Kadical  scum  —  I  say,  beware  of  the  scum,  and  look  out  for 
the  cream.  And  here  's  my  nephew  —  some  of  the  cream,  if 
there  is  any :  none  of  your  Whigs,  none  of  your  painted  water 
that  looks  as  if  it  ran,  and  it 's  standing  still  all  the  while ; 
none  of  your  spinning-jenny  fellows.  A  gentleman ;  but  up 
to  all  sorts  of  business.  I  'm  no  fool  myself  ;  I  'm  forced  to 
wink  a  good  deal,  for  fear  of  seeing  too  much,  for  a  neighborly 
man  must  let  himself  be  cheated  a  little.  But  though  I  've 
never  been  out  of  my  own  country,  I  know  less  about  it  than 
my  nephew  does.  You  may  tell  what  he  is,  and  only  look 
at  him.  There 's  one  sort  of  fellow  sees  nothing  but  the  end 
of  his  own  nose,  and  another  sort  that  sees  nothing  but  the 
hinder  side  of  the  moon  ;  but  my  nephew  Harold  is  of  another 
sort ;  he  sees  everything  that 's  at  hitting  distance,  and  he  's 
not  one  to  miss  his  mark.  A  good-looking  man  in  his  prime  ! 
Not  a  greenhorn  ;  not  a  shrivelled  old  fellow,  who  '11  come  to 
speak  to  you  and  find  he  's  left  his  teeth  at  home  by  mistake. 
Harold  Transome  will  do  you  credit ;  if  anybody  says  the  Radi- 
cals are  a  set  of  sneaks,  Brummagem  halfpennies,  scamps  who 
want  to  play  pitch-and-toss  with  the  property  of  the  country, 
you  can  say,  '  Look  at  the  member  for  North  Loamshire ! ' 
And  mind  what  you  '11  hear  him  say ;  he  '11  go  in  for  mak- 
ing everything  right  —  Poor-laws  and  Charities  and  Church  — 
he  wants  to  reform  'em  all.  Perhaps  you  '11  say,  '  There  's 
that  Parson  Lingon  talking  about  Church  Reform  —  why,  he 
belongs  to  the  Church  himself  —  he  wants  reforming  too.' 
Well,  well,  wait  a  bit,  and  you  '11  hear  by-and-by  that  old 
Parson  Lingon  is  reformed  —  shoots  no  more,  cracks  his  joke 
no  more,  has  drunk  his  last  bottle  :  the  dogs,  the  old  pointers, 
will  be  sorry  ;  but  you  '11  hear  that  the  Parson  at  Little  Treby 
is  a  new  man.  That 's  what  Church  Reform  is  sure  to  come 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  209 

to  before  long.  So  now  here  are  some  more  nuts  for  you, 
lads,  and  I  leave  you  to  listen  to  your  candidate.  Here  he  is 
—  give  him  a  good  hurray ;  wave  your  hats,  and  I  '11  begin. 
Hurray  ! " 

Harold  had  not  been  quite  confident  beforehand  as  to  the 
good  effect  of  his  uncle's  introduction ;  but  he  was  soon  re- 
assured. There  was  no  acrid  partisanship  among  the  old- 
fashioned  Tories  who  mustered  strong  about  the  Marquis  of 
Granby,  and  Parson  Jack  had  put  them  in  a  good  humor. 
Harold's  only  interruption  came  from  his  own  party.  The 
oratorical  clerk  at  the  Factory,  acting  as  the  tribune  of  the 
Dissenting  interest,  and  feeling  bound  to  put  questions,  might 
have  been  troublesome ;  but  his  voice  being  unpleasantly  sharp, 
while  Harold's  was  full  and  penetrating,  the  questioning  was 
cried  down.  Harold's  speech  "  did :  "  it  was  not  of  the  glib- 
nonsensical  sort,  not  ponderous,  not  hesitating  —  which  is  as 
much  as  to  say,  that  it  was  remarkable  among  British  speeches. 
Read  in  print  the  next  day,  perhaps  it  would  be  neither  preg- 
nant nor  conclusive,  which  is  saying  no  more  than  that  its 
excellence  was  not  of  an  abnormal  kind,  but  such  as  is  usually 
found  in  the  best  efforts  of  eloquent  candidates.  Accord- 
ingly the  applause  drowned  the  opposition,  and  content  pre- 
dominated. 

But,  perhaps,  the  moment  of  most  diffusive  pleasure  from 
public  speaking  is  that  in  which  the  speech  ceases  and  the 
audience  can  turn  to  commenting  on  it.  The  one  speech, 
sometimes  uttered  under  great  responsibility  as  to  missiles 
and  other  consequences,  has  given  a  text  to  twenty  speakers 
who  are  under  no  responsibility.  Even  in  the  days  of  duel- 
ling a  man  was  not  challenged  for  being  a  bore,  nor  does  this 
quality  apparently  hinder  him  from  being  much  invited  to 
dinner,  which  is  the  great  index  of  social  responsibility  in  a 
less  barbarous  age. 

Certainly  the  crowd  in  the  market-place  seemed  to  experi- 
ence this  culminating  enjoyment  when  the  speaking  on  the 
platform  in  front  of  the  Ram  had  ceased,  and  there  were  no 
less  than  three  orators  holding  forth  from  the  elevation  of 
chance  vehicles,  not  at  all  to  the  prejudice  of  the  talking 

VOL.    III.  14 


210  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

among  those  who  were  on  a  level  with  their  neighbors.  There 
was  little  ill-humor  among  the  listeners,  for  Queen  Bess  was 
striking  the  last  quarter  before  two,  and  a  savory  smell  from 
the  inn  kitchens  inspired  them  with  an  agreeable  conscious- 
ness that  the  speakers  were  helping  to  trifle  away  the  brief 
time  before  dinner. 

Two  or  three  of  Harold's  committee  had  lingered  talking 
to  each  other  on  the  platform,  instead  of  re-entering ;  and 
Jermyn,  after  coming  out  to  speak  to  one  of  them,  had  turned 
to  the  corner  near  which  the  carriages  were  standing,  that 
he  might  tell  the  Transomes'  coachman  to  drive  round  to  the 
side  door,  and  signal  to  his  own  coachman  to  follow.  But  a 
dialogue  which  was  going  on  below  induced  him  to  pause,  and, 
instead  of  giving  the  order,  to  assume  the  air  of  a  careless 
gazer.  Christian,  whom  the  attorney  had  already  observed 
looking  out  of  a  window  at  the  Marquis  of  Granby,  was  talk- 
ing to  Dominic.  The  meeting  appeared  to  be  one  of  new 
recognition,  for  Christian  was  saying  — 

"  You  've  not  got  gray  as  I  have,  Mr.  Lenoni ;  you  're  not  a 
day  older  for  the  sixteen  years.  But  no  wonder  you  did  n't 
know  me ;  I  'm  bleached  like  a  dried  bone." 

"Not  so.  It  is  true  I  was  confused  a  meenute  —  I  could 
put  your  face  nowhere ;  but  after  that,  Naples  came  behind  it, 
and  I  said,  Mr.  Creestian.  And  so  you  reside  at  the  Manor, 
and  I  am  at  Transom e  Court." 

"  Ah  !  it 's  a  thousand  pities  you  're  not  on  our  side,  else  we 
might  have  dined  together  at  the  Marquis,"  said  Christian. 
"  Eh,  could  you  manage  it  ?  "  he  added  languidly,  knowing 
there  was  no  chance  of  a  yes. 

"  No  —  much  obliged  —  could  n't  leave  the  leetle  boy.  Ahi ! 
Arry,  Any,  pinch  not  poor  Moro." 

While  Dominic  was  answering,  Christian  had  stared  about 
him,  as  his  manner  was  when  he  was  being  spoken  to,  and  had 
had  his  eyes  arrested  by  Esther,  who  was  leaning  forward 
to  look  at  Mr.  Harold  Transome's  extraordinary  little  gypsy 
of  a  son.  But  happening  to  meet  Christian's  stare,  she  felt 
annoyed,  drew  back,  and  turned  away  her  head,  coloring. 

"Who  are  those  ladies?"  said  Christian,  in  a  low  tone,  to 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  211 

Dominic,  as  if  he  had  been  startled  into  a  sudden  wish  for 
this  information. 

"  They  are  Meester  Jermyn's  daughters,"  said  Dominic,  who 
knew  nothing  either  of  the  lawyer's  family  or  of  Esther. 

Christian  looked  puzzled  a  moment  or  two,  and  was  silent. 

"  Oh,  well  —  au  revoir,"  he  said,  kissing  the  tips  of  his 
fingers,  as  the  coachman,  having  had  Jermyn's  order,  began 
to  urge  on  the  horses. 

"  Does  he  see  some  likeness  in  the  girl  ?  "  thought  Jermyn, 
as  he  turned  away.  "  I  wish  I  had  n't  invited  her  to  come  in 
the  carriage,  as  it  happens." 


CHAPTEE  XX. 

"  Good  earthenware  pitchers,  sir !  —  of  an  excellent  quaint  pattern  and 
somber  color." 

THE  market  dinner  at  "  the  Marquis  "  was  in  high  repute  in 
Treby  and  its  neighborhood.  The  frequenters  of  this  three- 
and-sixpenny  ordinary  liked  to  allude  to  it,  as  men  allude  to 
anything  which  implies  that  they  move  in  good  society,  and 
habitually  converse  with  those  who  are  in  the  secret  of  the 
highest  affairs.  The  guests  were  not  only  such  rural  residents 
as  had  driven  to  market,  but  some  of  the  most  substantial 
townsmen,  who  had  always  assured  their  wives  that  business 
required  this  weekly  sacrifice  of  domestic  pleasure.  The 
poorer  farmers,  who  put  up  at  the  Earn  or  the  Seven  Stars, 
where  there  was  no  fish,  felt  their  disadvantage,  bearing  it 
modestly  or  bitterly,  as  the  case  might  be  ;  and  although  the 
Marquis  was  a  Tory  house,  devoted  to  Debarry,  it  was  too 
much  to  expect  that  such  tenants  of  the  Transomes  as  had 
always  been  used  to  dine  there,  should  consent  to  eat  a  worse 
dinner,  and  sit  with  worse  company,  because  they  suddenly 
found  themselves  under  a  Eaclical  landlord,  opposed  to  the  po- 
litical party  known  as  Sir  Maxim's.  Hence  the  recent  political 


212  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL. 

divisions  had  not  reduced  the  handsome  length  of  the  table 
at  the  Marquis ;  and  the  many  gradations  of  dignity  —  from 
Mr.  Wace,  the  brewer,  to  the  rich  butcher  from  Leek  Malton, 
who  always  modestly  took  the  lowest  seat,  though  without  the 
reward  of  being  asked  to  come  up  higher  —  had  not  been  abbre- 
viated by  any  secessions. 

To-day  there  was  an  extra  table  spread  for  expected  super- 
numeraries, and  it  was  at  this  that  Christian  took  his  place 
with  some  of  the  younger  farmers,  who  had  almost  a  sense  of 
dissipation  in  talking  to  a  man  of  his  questionable  station  and 
unknown  experience.  The  provision  was  especially  liberal, 
and  on  the  whole  the  presence  of  a  minority  destined  to  vote 
for  Transome  was  a  ground  for  joking,  which  added  to  the 
good-humor  of  the  chief  talkers.  A  respectable  old  acquaint- 
ance turned  Radical  rather  against  his  will,  was  rallied  with 
even  greater  gusto  than  if  his  wife  had  had  twins  twice  over. 
The  best  Trebian  Tories  were  far  too  sweet-blooded  to  turn 
against  such  old  friends,  and  to  make  no  distinction  between 
them  and  the  Eadical,  Dissenting,  Papistical,  Deistical  set 
with  whom  they  never  dined,  and  probably  never  saw  except 
in  their  imagination.  But  the  talk  was  necessarily  in  abey- 
ance until  the  more  serious  business  of  dinner  was  ended,  and 
the  wine,  spirits,  and  tobacco  raised  mere  satisfaction  into 
beatitude. 

Among  the  frequent  though  not  regular  guests,  whom  every 
one  was  glad  to  see,  was  Mr.  Nolan,  the  retired  London  hosier, 
a  wiry  old  gentleman  past  seventy,  whose  sqiiare  tight  fore- 
head, with  its  rigid  hedge  of  gray  hair,  whose  bushy  eyebrows, 
sharp  dark  eyes,  and  remarkable  hooked  nose,  gave  a  hand- 
some distinction  to  his  face  in  the  midst  of  rural  physiogno- 
mies. He  had  married  a  Miss  Pendrell  early  in  life,  when  he 
was  a  poor  young  Londoner,  and  the  match  had  been  thought 
as  bad  as  ruin  by  her  family ;  but  fifteen  years  ago  he  had  had 
the  satisfaction  of  bringing  his  wife  to  settle  amongst  her  own 
friends,  and  of  being  received  with  pride  as  a  brother-in-law, 
retired  from  business,  possessed  of  unknown  thousands,  and 
of  a  most  agreeable  talent  for  anecdote  and  conversation  gen- 
erally. No  question  had  ever  been  raised  as  to  Mr.  Nolan's 


FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL.  213 

extraction  on  the  strength  of  his  hooked  nose,  or  of  his  name 
being  Baruch.  Hebrew  names  "  ran  "  in  the  best  Saxon  fami- 
lies ;  the  Bible  accounted  for  them ;  and  no  one  among  the 
uplands  and  hedgerows  of  that  district  was  suspected  of  hav- 
ing an  Oriental  origin  unless  he  carried  a  pedler's  jewel-box. 
Certainly,  whatever  genealogical  research  might  have  discov- 
ered, the  worthy  Baruch  Nolan  was  so  free  from  any  distinc- 
tive marks  of  religious  persuasion  —  he  went  to  church  with 
so  ordinary  an  irregularity,  and  so  often  grumbled  at  the  ser- 
mon —  that  there  was  no  ground  for  classing  him  otherwise 
than  with  good  Trebian  Churchmen.  He  was  generally  re- 
garded as  a  good-looking  old  gentleman,  and  a  certain  thin 
eagerness  in  his  aspect  was  attributed  to  the  life  of  the  me- 
tropolis, where  narrow  space  had  the  same  sort  of  effect  on 
men  as  on  thickly  planted  trees.  Mr.  Nolan  always  ordered 
his  pint  of  port,  which,  after  he  had  sipped  it  a  little,  was 
wont  to  animate  his  recollections  of  the  Royal  Family,  and 
the  various  ministries  which  had  been  contemporary  with  the 
successive  stages  of  his  prosperity.  He  was  always  listened 
to  with  interest :  a  man  who  had  been  born  in  the  year  when 
good  old  King  George  came  to  the  throne  —  who  had  been 
acquainted  with  the  nude  leg  of  the  Prince  Regent,  and  hinted 
at  private  reasons  for  believing  that  the  Princess  Charlotte 
ought  not  to  have  died  —  had  conversational  matter  as  special 
to  his  auditors  as  Marco  Polo  could  have  had  on  his  return 
from  Asiatic  travel. 

"  My  good  sir,"  he  said  to  Mr.  Wace,  as  he  crossed  his  knees 
and  spread  his  silk  handkerchief  over  them,  "  Transome  may  be 
returned,  or  he  may  not  be  returned  —  that 's  a  question  for 
North  Loamshire ;  but  it  makes  little  difference  to  the  king- 
dom. I  don't  want  to  say  things  which  may  put  younger  men 
out  of  spirits,  but  I  believe  this  country  has  seen  its  best  days 
—  I  do  indeed." 

"  I  am  sorry  to  hear  it  from  one  of  your  experience,  Mr.  No- 
lan," said  the  brewer,  a  large  happy-looking  man.  "  I  'd  make 
a  good  fight  myself  before  I  'd  leave  a  worse  world  for  my 
boys  than  I  've  found  for  myself.  There  is  n't  a  greater  pleas- 
ure than  doing  a  bit  of  planting  and  improving  one's  buildings, 


214  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL. 

and  investing  one's  money  in  some  pretty  acres  of  land,  when 
it  turns  up  here  and  there  — land  you  've  known  from  a  boy. 
It 's  a  nasty  thought  that  these  Kadicals  are  to  turn  things 
round  so  as  one  can  calculate  on  nothing.  One  does  n't  like  it 
for  one's  self,  and  one  does  n't  like  it  for  one's  neighbors.  But 
somehow,  I  believe  it  won't  do  :  if  we  can't  trust  the  Govern- 
ment just  now,  there 's  Providence  and  the  good  sense  of  the 
country ;  and  there  's  a  right  in  things  —  that 's  what  I  've 
always  said  —  there 's  a  right  in  things.  The  heavy  end  will 
get  downmost.  And  if  Church  and  King,  and  every  man  being 
sure  of  his  own,  are  things  good  for  this  country,  there 's  a 
God  above  will  take  care  of  'em." 

"  It  won't  do,  my  dear  sir,"  said  Mr.  Nolan  —  "  it  won't  do. 
When  Peel  and  the  Duke  turned  round  about  the  Catholics  in 
'29,  I  saw  it  was  all  over  with  us.  We  could  never  trust 
ministers  any  more.  It  was  to  keep  off  a  rebellion,  they  said ; 
but  I  say  it  was  to  keep  their  places.  They  're  monstrously 
fond  of  place,  both  of  them  —  that  I  know."  Here  Mr. 
Nolan  changed  the  crossing  of  his  legs,  and  gave  a  deep  cough, 
conscious  of  having  made  a  point.  Then  he  went  on  —  "  What 
we  want  is  a  king  with  a  good  will  of  his  own.  If  we  'd  had 
that,  we  should  n't  have  heard  what  we  've  heard  to-day ; 
Reform  would  never  have  come  to  this  pass.  When  our 
good  old  King  George  the  Third  heard  his  ministers  talking 
about  Catholic  Emancipation,  he  boxed  their  ears  all  round. 
Ah,  poor  soul !  he  did  indeed,  gentlemen,"  ended  Mr.  Nolan, 
shaken  by  a  deep  laugh  of  admiration. 

"  Well,  now,  that 's  something  like  a  king,"  said  Mr.  Crowd- 
er,  who  was  an  eager  listener. 

"  It  was  uncivil,  though.  How  did  they  take  it  ?  "  said 
Mr.  Timothy  Rose,  a  "  gentleman  farmer  "  from  Leek  Malton, 
against  whose  independent  position  nature  had  provided  the 
safeguard  of  a  spontaneous  servility.  His  large  porcine 
cheeks,  round  twinkling  eyes,  and  thumbs  habitually  twirling, 
expressed  a  concentrated  effort  not  to  get  into  trouble,  and 
to  speak  everybody  fair  except  when  they  were  safely  out  of 
hearing. 

"  Take  it !  they  'd  be  obliged  to  take  it,"  said  the  impetuous 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  215 

young  Joyce,  a  farmer  of  superior  information.  "  Have  you 
ever  heard  of  the  king's  prerogative  ?  " 

"I  don't  say  but  what  I  have,"  said  Rose,  retreating. 
"  I  've  nothing  against  it  —  nothing  at  all." 

"No,  but  the  Radicals  have,"  said  young  Joyce,  winking. 
"The  prerogative  is  what  they  want  to  clip  close.  They 
want  us  to  be  governed  by  delegates  from  the  trades-unions, 
who  are  to  dictate  to  everybody,  and  make  everything  square 
to  their  mastery." 

"  They  're  a  pretty  set,  now,  those  delegates,"  said  Mr. 
Wace,  with  disgust.  "  I  once  heard  two  of  'em  spouting  away. 
They  're  a  sort  of  fellow  I  'd  never  employ  in  my  brewery, 
or  anywhere  else.  I  've  seen  it  again  and  again.  If  a  man 
takes  to  tongue-work  it 's  all  over  with  him.  '  Everything 's 
•wrong,'  says  he.  That 's  a  big  text.  But  does  he  want  to 
make  everything  right  ?  Not  he.  He  'd  lose  his  text.  '  We 
want  every  man's  good,'  say  they.  Why,  they  never  knew 
yet  what  a  man's  good  is.  How  should  they  ?  It 's  working 
for  his  victual  —  not  getting  a  slice  of  other  people's." 

"  Ay,  ay,"  said  young  Joyce,  cordially.  "  I  should  just 
have  liked  all  the  delegates  in  the  country  mustered  for  our 
yeomanry  to  go  into  —  that 's  all.  They  'd  see  where  the 
strength  of  Old  England  lay  then.  You  may  tell  what  it  is 
for  a  country  to  trust  to  trade  when  it  breeds  such  spindling 
fellows  as  those." 

"  That  is  n't  the  fault  of  trade,  my  good  sir,"  said  Mr. 
Nolan,  who  was  often  a  little  pained  by  the  defects  of  pro- 
vincial culture.  "  Trade,  properly  conducted,  is  good  for  a 
man's  constitution.  I  could  have  shown  you,  in  my  time, 
weavers  past  seventy,  with  all  their  faculties  as  sharp  as  a 
pen-knife,  doing  without  spectacles.  It's  the  new  system  of 
trade  that 's  to  blame  :  a  country  can't  have  too  much  trade 
if  it 's  properly  managed.  Plenty  of  sound  Tories  have 
made  their  fortune  by  trade.  You  've  heard  of  Calibut  & 
Co. — everybody  has  heard  of  Calibut.  Well,  sir,  I  knew 
old  Mr.  Calibut  as  well  as  I  know  you.  He  was  once  a  crony 
of  mine  in  a  city  warehouse  ;  and  now,  I  '11  answer  for  it,  he 
has  a  larger  rent-roll  than  Lord  Wyvern.  Bless  your  soul ! 


216  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

his  subscriptions  to  charities  would  make  a  fine  income  for  a 
nobleman.  And  he's  as  good  a  Tory  as  I  am.  And  as  for 
his  town  establishment  —  why,  how  much  butter  do  you  think 
is  consumed  there  annually  ?  " 

Mr.  Nolan  paused,  and  then  his  face  glowed  with  triumph 
as  he  answered  his  own  question.  "Why,  gentlemen,  not  less 
than  two  thousand  pounds  of  butter  during  the  few  months 
the  family  is  in  town !  Trade  makes  property,  my  good  sir, 
and  property  is  Conservative,  as  they  say  now.  Calibut's 
son-in-law  is  Lord  Fortinbras.  He  paid  me  a  large  debt  on 
his  marriage.  It 's  all  one  web,  sir.  The  prosperity  of  the 
country  is  one  web." 

"  To  be  sure,"  said  Christian,  who,  smoking  his  cigar  with 
his  chair  turned  away  from  the  table,  was  willing  to  make 
himself  agreeable  in  the  conversation.  "  We  can't  do  without 
nobility.  Look  at  France.  When  they  got  rid  of  the  old 
nobles  they  were  obliged  to  make  new." 

"  True,  very  true,"  said  Mr.  Nolan,  who  thought  Christian 
a  little  too  wise  for  his  position,  but  could  not  resist  the  rare 
gift  of  an  instance  in  point.  "It's  the  French  Revolution 
that  has  done  us  harm  here.  It  was  the  same  at  the  end  of 
the  last  century,  but  the  war  kept  it  off  —  Mr.  Pitt  saved  us. 
I  knew  Mr.  Pitt.  I  had  a  particular  interview  with  him  once. 
He  joked  me  about  getting  the  length  of  his  foot.  'Mr. 
Nolan,'  said  he,  'there  are  those  on  the  other  side  of  the 
water  whose  name  begins  with  N.  who  would  be  glad  to  know 
what  you  know.'  I  was  recommended  to  send  an  account  of 
that  to  the  newspapers  after  his  death,  poor  man !  but  I  'm 
not  fond  of  that  kind  of  show  myself."  Mr.  Nolan  swung  his 
upper  leg  a  little,  and  pinched  his  lip  between  his  thumb  and 
finger,  naturally  pleased  with  his  own  moderation. 

"No,  no  —  very  right,"  said  Mr.  Wace,  cordially.  "But 
you  never  said  a  truer  word  than  that  about  property.  If  a 
man  's  got  a  bit  of  property,  a  stake  in  the  country,  he  '11  want 
to  keep  things  square.  Where  Jack  is  n't  safe,  Tom 's  in 
danger.  But  that 's  what  makes  it  such  an  uncommonly 
nasty  thing  that  a  man  like  Transome  should  take  up  with 
these  Radicals.  It's  my  belief  he  does  it  only  to  get  into 


FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL.  217 

Parliament ;  he  '11  turn  round  when  he  gets  there.  Come, 
Dibbs,  there 's  something  to  put  you  in  spirits,"  added  Mr. 
Wace,  raising  his  voice  a  little  and  looking  at  a  guest  lower 
down.  "  You  've  got  to  vote  for  a  Kadical  with  one  side  of 
your  mouth,  and  make  a  wry  face  with  the  other ;  but  he  '11 
turn  round  by-and-by.  As  Parson  Jack  says,  he's  got  the 
right  sort  of  blood  in  him." 

"  I  don't  care  two  straws  who  I  vote  for,"  said  Dibbs, 
sturdily.  "  I  'm  not  going  to  make  a  wry  face.  It  stands  to 
reason  a  man  should  vote  for  his  landlord.  My  farm  's  in 
good  condition,  and  I  've  got  the  best  pasture  on  the  estate. 
The  rot 's  never  come  nigh  me.  Let  them  grumble  as  are  on 
the  wrong  side  of  the  hedge." 

"  I  wonder  if  Jermyn  '11  bring  him  in,  though,"  said  Mr.  Sir- 
come,  the  great  miller.  "  He  's  an  uncommon  fellow  for  carry- 
ing things  through.  I  know  he  brought  me  through  that  suit 
about  my  weir ;  it  cost  a  pretty  penny,  but  he  brought  me 
through." 

"  It 's  a  bit  of  a  pill  for  him,  too,  having  to  turn  Radical," 
said  Mr.  Wace.  "  They  say  he  counted  on  making  friends 
with  Sir  Maximus,  by  this  young  one  coming  home  and  join- 
ing with  Mr.  Philip." 

"  But  I  '11  bet  a  penny  he  brings  Transome  in,"  said  Mr. 
Sircome.  "  Folks  say  he  has  n't  got  many  votes  hereabout ; 
but  towards  Duffield,  and  all  there,  where  the  Eadicals  are, 
everybody 's  for  him.  Eh,  Mr.  Christian  ?  Come  —  you  're 
at  the  fountainhead  —  what  do  they  say  about  it  now  at  the 
Manor  ?  " 

When  general  attention  was  called  to  Christian,  young 
Joyce  looked  down  at  his  own  legs  and  touched  the  curves  of 
his  own  hair,  as  if  measuring  his  own  approximation  to  that 
correct  copy  of  a  gentleman.  Mr.  Wace  turned  his  head  to 
listen  for  Christian's  answer  with  that  tolerance  of  inferiority 
which  becomes  men  in  places  of  public  resort. 

"  They  think  it  will  be  a  hard  run  between  Transome  and 
Garstin,"  said  Christian.  "  It  depends  on  Transome's  getting 
plumpers." 

"Well,  I  know  I  shall  not  split  for  Garstin,"  said  Mr.  Wace. 


218  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL. 

"  It  Js  nonsense  for  Debarry's  voters  to  split  for  a  Whig. 
A  man  's  either  a  Tory  or  not  a  Tory." 

"It  seems  reasonable  there  should  be  one  of  each  side,'* 
said  Mr.  Timothy  Kose.  "  I  don't  like  showing  favor  either 
way.  If  one  side  can't  lower  the  poor's  rates  and  take  off  the 
tithe,  let  the  other  try." 

"  But  there  's  this  in  it,  Wace,"  said  Mr.  Sircome.  "  I  'm 
not  altogether  against  the  Whigs.  For  they  don't  want  to  go 
so  far  as  the  Eadicals  do,  and  when  they  find  they  've  slipped 
a  bit  too  far,  they  '11  hold  on  all  the  tighter.  And  the  Whigs 
have  got  the  upper  hand  now,  and  it 's  no  use  fighting  with 
the  current.  I  run  with  the  —  " 

Mr.  Sircome  checked  himself,  looked  furtively  at  Christian, 
and,  to  divert  criticism,  ended  with  —  "  eh,  Mr.  ]STolan  ?  " 

"There  have  been  eminent  Whigs,  sir.  Mr.  Fox  was  a 
Whig,"  said  Mr.  Nolan.  "  Mr.  Fox  was  a  great  orator.  He 
gambled  a  good  deal.  He  was  very  intimate  with  the  Prince 
of  Wales.  I've  seen  him,  and  the  Duke  of  York  too,  go 
home  by  daylight  with  their  hats  crushed.  Mr.  Fox  was  a 
great  leader  of  Opposition :  Government  requires  an  Opposi- 
tion. The  Whigs  should  always  be  in  opposition,  and  the 
Tories  on  the  ministerial  side.  That 's  what  the  country  used 
to  like.  'The  Whigs  for  salt  and  mustard,  the  Tories  for 
meat/  Mr.  Gottlib  the  banker  used  to  say  to  me.  Mr.  Gottlib 
was  a  worthy  man.  When  there  was  a  great  run  on  Gottlib's 
bank  in  '16,  I  saw  a  gentleman  come  in  with  bags  of  gold,  and 
say,  '  Tell  Mr.  Gottlib  there  's  plenty  more  where  that  came 
from.'  It  stopped  the  run,  gentlemen  —  it  did  indeed." 

This  anecdote  was  received  with  great  admiration,  but  Mr. 
Sircome  returned  to  the  previous  question. 

"  There  now,  you  see,  Wace  —  it 's  right  there  should  be 
Whigs  as  well  as  Tories  —  Pit  and  Fox  —  I  've  always  heard 
them  go  together." 

"  Well,  I  don't  like  Garstin,"  said  the  brewer.  "  I  did  n't 
like  his  conduct  about  the  Canal  Company.  Of  the  two,  I 
like  Transome  best.  If  a  nag  is  to  throw  me,  I  say,  let  him 
have  some  blood." 

"As   for  blood,  Wace,"   said  Mr.  Salt,  the  wool-factor,  a 


FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL.  219 

bilious  man,  who  only  spoke  when  there  was  a  good  oppoiv 
tunity  of  contradicting,  "  ask  my  brother-in-law  Labron  a  little 
about  that.  These  Transomes  are  not  the  old  blood." 

"  Well,  they  're  the  oldest  that 's  forthcoming,  I  suppose," 
said  Mr.  Wace,  laughing.  "  Unless  you  believe  in  mad  old 
Tommy  Trounsem.  I  wonder  where  that  old  poaching  fellow 
is  now." 

"  I  saw  him  half-drunk  the  other  day,"  said  young  Joyce. 
"  He  'd  got  a  flag-basket  with  handbills  in  it  over  his 
shoulder." 

"I  thought  the  old  fellow  was  dead,"  said  Mr.  Wace. 
"  Hey !  why,  Jermyn,"  he  went  on  merrily,  as  he  turned  round 
and  saw  the  attorney  entering ;  "  you  Kadical !  how  dare  you 
show  yourself  in  this  Tory  house  ?  Come,  this  is  going  a  bit 
too  far.  We  don't  mind  Old  Harry  managing  our  law  for  us 

—  that 's  his  proper  business  from  time  immemorial ;  but  —  " 
"  But  —  a  —  "  said  Jermyn,  smiling,  always  ready  to  carry 

on  a  joke,  to  which  his  slow  manner  gave  the  piquancy  of 
surprise,  "  if  he  meddles  with  politics  he  must  be  a  Tory." 

Jermyn  was  not  afraid  to  show  himself  anywhere  in  Treby. 
He  knew  many  people  were  not  exactly  fond  of  him,  but  a 
man  can  do  without  that,  if  he  is  prosperous.  A  provincial 
lawyer  in  those  old-fashioned  days  was  as  independent  of 
personal  esteem  as  if  he  had  been  a  Lord  Chancellor. 

There  was  a  good-humored  laugh  at  this  upper  end  of  the 
room  as  Jermyn  seated  himself  at  about  an  equal  angle  be- 
tween Mr.  Wace  and  Christian. 

"  We  were  talking  about  old  Tommy  Trounsem ;  you  re- 
member him  ?  They  say  he 's  turned  up  again,"  said  Mr. 
Wace. 

"  Ah  ?  "  said  Jermyn,  indifferently.  "  But  —  a  —  Wace  — 
I  'm  very  busy  to-day  —  but  I  wanted  to  see  you  about  that 
bit  of  land  of  yours  at  the  corner  of  Pod's  End.  I  've  had  a 
handsome  offer  for  you  —  I'm  not  at  liberty  to  say  from  whom 

—  but  an  offer  that  ought  to  tempt  you." 

"  It  won't  tempt  me,"  said  Mr.  Wace,  peremptorily ;  "  if 
I  've  got  a  bit  of  land,  I  '11  keep  it.  It 's  hard  enough  to  get 
hereabouts." 


220  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

"  Then  I  'm  to  understand  that  you  refuse  all  negotiation  ?  " 
said  Jermyn,  who  had  ordered  a  glass  of  sherry,  and  was 
looking  round  slowly  as  he  sipped  it,  till  his  eyes  seemed  to 
rest  for  the  first  time  on  Christian,  though  he  had  seen  him  at 
once  on  entering  the  room. 

"  Unless  one  of  the  confounded  railways  should  come.  But 
then  I  '11  stand  out  and  make  'em  bleed  for  it." 

There  was  a  murmur  of  approbation ;  the  railways  were  a 
public  wrong  much  denunciated  in  Treby. 

"A  —  Mr.  Philip  Debarry  at  the  Manor  now  ? "  said 
Jermyn,  suddenly  questioning  Christian,  in  a  haughty  tone  of 
superiority  which  he  often  chose  to  use. 

"  No,"  said  Christian,  "  he  is  expected  to-morrow  morning." 

"  Ah  !  — "  Jermyn  paused  a  moment  or  two,  and  then  said, 
"You  are  sufficiently  in  his  confidence,  I  think,  to  carry  a 
message  to  him  with  a  small  document  ?  " 

"  Mr.  Debarry  has  often  trusted  me  so  far,"  said  Christian, 
with  much  coolness ;  "  but  if  the  business  is  yours,  you  can 
probably  find  some  one  you  know  better." 

There  was  a  little  winking  and  grimacing  among  those  of 
the  company  who  heard  this  answer. 

"A  —  true  —  a,"  said  Jermyn,  not  showing  any  offence  ; 
"  if  you  decline.  But  I  think,  if  you  will  do  me  the  favor  to 
step  round  to  my  residence  on  your  way  back,  and  learn  the 
business,  you  will  prefer  carrying  it  yourself.  At  my  resi- 
dence, if  you  please  —  not  my  office." 

"  Oh,  very  well,"  said  Christian.  "  I  shall  be  very  happy." 
Christian  never  allowed  himself  to  be  treated  as  a  servant  by 
any  one  but  his  master,  and  his  master  treated  a  servant  more 
deferentially  than  an  equal. 

"  Will  it  be  five  o'clock  ?  what  hour  shall  we  say  ? "  said 
Jermyn. 

Christian  looked  at  his  watch  and  said,  "  About  five  I  can 
be  there." 

"  Very  good,"  said  Jermyn,  finishing  his  sherry. 

"Well  —  a  —  Wace — a  —  so  you  will  hear  nothing  about 
Pod's  End  ?  " 

"  Not  I." 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  221 

"A  mere  pocket-handkerchief,  not  enough  to  swear  by  — 
a  —  "  here  Jermyn's  face  broke  into  a  smile  —  "  without  a 
magnifying-glass." 

"  Never  mind.  It 's  mine  into  the  bowels  of  the  earth  and 
up  to  the  sky.  I  can  build  the  Tower  of  Babel  on  it  if  I  like 
-eh,  Mr.  Nolan?" 

"  A  bad  investment,  my  good  sir,"  said  Mr.  Nolan,  who  en- 
joyed a  certain  flavor  of  infidelity  in  this  smart  reply,  and 
laughed  much  at  it  in  his  inward  way. 

"  See  now,  how  blind  you  Tories  are,"  said  Jermyn,  rising ; 
"  if  I  had  been  your  lawyer,  I  'd  have  had  you  make  another 
forty-shilling  freeholder  with  that  land,  and  all  in  time  for 
this  election.  But  —  a  —  the  verbum  sapientibus  comes  a  little 
too  late  now." 

Jermyn  was  moving  away  as  he  finished  speaking,  but  Mr. 
Wace  called  out  after  him,  "  We  're  not  so  badly  off  for  votes 
as  you  are  —  good  sound  votes,  that  '11  stand  the  Kevising 
Barrister.  Debarry  at  the  top  of  the  poll ! " 

The  lawyer  was  already  out  of  the  doorway. 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

'T  is  grievous,  that  with  all  amplification  of  travel  both  by  sea  and  land, 
a  man  can  never  separate  himself  from  his  past  history. 

MB.  JEKMYN'S  handsome  house  stood  a  little  way  out  of 
the  town,  surrounded  by  garden  and  lawn  and  plantations  of 
hopeful  trees.  As  Christian  approached  it  he  was  in  a  per- 
fectly easy  state  of  mind :  the  business  he  was  going  on  was 
none  of  his,  otherwise  than  as  he  was  well  satisfied  with  any 
opportunity  of  making  himself  valuable  to  Mr.  Philip  Debarry. 
As  he  looked  at  Jermyn's  length  of  wall  and  iron  railing,  he 
said  to  himself,  "These  lawyers  are  the  fellows  for  getting  on 
in  the  world  with  the  least  expense  of  civility.  "With  this 


222  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL. 

cursed  conjuring  secret  of  theirs  called  Law,  they  think  every- 
body is  frightened  at  them.  My  Lord  Jermyn  seems  to  have 
his  insolence  as  ready  as  his  soft  sawder.  He 's  as  sleek  as  a 
rat,  and  has  as  vicious  a  tooth.  I  know  the  sort  of  vermin 
well  enough.  I  've  helped  to  fatten  one  or  two." 

In  this  mood  of  conscious,  contemptuous  penetration,  Chris- 
tian was  shown  by  the  footman  into  Jermyn's  private  room, 
where  the  attorney  sat  surrounded  with  massive  oaken  book- 
cases, and  other  furniture  to  correspond,  from  the  thickest- 
legged  library-table  to  the  calendar  frame  and  card-rack.  It 
was  the  sort  of  room  a  man  prepares  for  himself  when  he  feels 
sure  of  a  long  and  respectable  future.  He  was  leaning  back 
in  his  leather  chair,  against  the  broad  window  opening  on  the 
lawn,  and  had  just  taken  off  his  spectacles  and  let  the  news- 
paper fall  on  his  knees,  in  despair  of  reading  by  the  fading 
light. 

When  the  footman  opened  the  door  and  said,  "Mr.  Chris- 
tian," Jermyn  said,  "  Good  evening,  Mr.  Christian.  Be  seated," 
pointing  to  a  chair  opposite  himself  and  the  window.  "  Light 
the  candles  on  the  shelf,  John,  but  leave  the  blinds  alone." 

He  did  not  speak  again  till  the  man  was  gone  out,  but 
appeared  to  be  referring  to  a  document  which  lay  on  the 
bureau  before  him.  When  the  door  was  closed  he  drew 
himself  up  again,  began  to  rub  his  hands,  and  turned  to- 
wards his  visitor,  who  seemed  perfectly  indifferent  to  the  fact 
that  the  attorney  was  in  shadow,  and  that  the  light  fell  on 
himself. 

"A  —  your  name  —  a  —  is  Henry  Scaddon." 

There  was  a  start  through  Christian's  frame  which  he  was 
quick  enough,  almost  simultaneously,  to  try  and  disguise  as  a 
change  of  position.  He  uncrossed  his  legs  and  unbuttoned  his 
coat.  But  before  he  had  time  to  say  anything,  Jermyn  went 
on  with  slow  emphasis. 

"  You  were  born  on  the  16th  of  December,  1782,  at  Black- 
heath.  Your  father  was  a  cloth-merchant  in  London  :  he  died 
when  you  were  barely  of  age,  leaving  an  extensive  business  ; 
before  you  were  five-and-twenty  you  had  run  through  the 
greater  part  of  the  property,  and  had  compromised  your  safety 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  223 

by  an  attempt  to  defraud  your  creditors.  Subsequently  you 
forged  a  check  on  your  father's  elder  brother,  who  had  intended 
to  make  you  his  heir." 

Here  Jermyn  paused  a  moment  and  referred  to  the  docu- 
ment. Christian  was  silent. 

"  In  1808  you  found  it  expedient  to  leave  this  country  in  a 
military  disguise,  and  were  taken  prisoner  by  the  French.  On 
the  occasion  of  an  exchange  of  prisoners  you  had  the  opportu- 
nity of  returning  to  your  own  country,  and  to  the  bosom  of 
your  own  family.  You  were  generous  enough  to  sacrifice  that 
prospect  in  favor  of  a  fellow-prisoner,  of  about  your  own  age 
and  figure,  who  had  more  pressing  reasons  than  yourself  for 
wishing  to  be  on  this  side  of  the  water.  You  exchanged  dress, 
luggage,  and  names  with  him,  and  he  passed  to  England  instead 
of  you  as  Henry  Scaddon.  Almost  immediately  afterwards 
you  escaped  from  your  imprisonment,  after  feigning  an  illness 
which  prevented  your  exchange  of  names  from  being  discov- 
ered ;  and  it  was  reported  that  you  —  that  is,  you  under  the 
name  of  your  fellow-prisoner  —  were  drowned  in  an  open 
boat,  trying  to  reach  a  Neapolitan  vessel  bound  for  Malta. 
Nevertheless  I  have  to  congratulate  you  on  the  falsehood 
of  that  report,  and  on  the  certainty  that  you  are  now,  after 
the  lapse  of  more  than  twenty  years,  seated  here  in  perfect 
safety." 

Jermyn  paused  so  long  that  he  was  evidently  awaiting  some 
answer.  At  last  Christian  replied,  in  a  dogged  tone  — 

"  Well,  sir,  I  've  heard  much  longer  stories  than  that  told 
quite  as  solemnly,  when  there  was  not  a  word  of  truth  in  them. 
Suppose  I  deny  the  very  peg  you  hang  your  statement  on. 
Suppose  I  say  I  am  not  Henry  Scaddon." 

"A  —  in  that  case  —  a,"  said  Jermyn,  with  wooden  indiffer- 
ence, "  you  would  lose  the  advantage  which  —  a  —  may  attach 
to  your  possession  of  Henry  Scaddon's  knowledge.  And  at 
the  same  time,  if  it  were  in  the  least  —  a  —  inconvenient  to 
you  that  you  should  be  recognized  as  Henry  Scaddon,  your 
denial  would  not  prevent  me  from  holding  the  knowledge  and 
evidence  which  I  possess  on  that  point ;  it  would  only  prevent 
us  from  pursuing  the  present  conversation." 


224  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL. 

"Well,  sir,  suppose  we  admit,  for  the  sake  of  the  conver- 
sation, that  your  account  of  the  matter  is  the  true  one : 
what  advantage  have  you  to  offer  the  man  named  Henry 
Scaddon  ?  " 

"  The  advantage  —  a  —  is  problematical ;  but  it  may  be  con- 
siderable. It  might,  in  fact,  release  you  from  the  necessity  of 
acting  as  courier,  or  —  a  —  valet,  or  whatever  other  office  you 
may  occupy  which  prevents  you  from  being  your  own  master. 
On  the  other  hand,  my  acquaintance  with  your  secret  is  not 
necessarily  a  disadvantage  to  you.  To  put  the  matter  in  a 
nutshell,  I  am  not  inclined  —  a  —  gratuitously  —  to  do  you 
any  harm,  and  I  may  be  able  to  do  you  a  considerable 
service." 

"  Which  you  want  me  to  earn  somehow  ?  "  said  Christian. 
"  You  offer  me  a  turn  in  a  lottery  ?  " 

"  Precisely.  The  matter  in  question  is  of  no  earthly  interest 
to  you,  except  —  a  —  as  it  may  yield  you  a  prize.  We  lawyers 
have  to  do  with  complicated  questions,  and  —  a  —  legal  subtle- 
ties, which  are  never  —  a  —  fully  known  even  to  the  parties 
immediately  interested,  still  less  to  the  witnesses.  Shall  we 
agree,  then,  that  you  continue  to  retain  two-thirds  of  the  name 
which  you  gained  by  exchange,  and  that  you  oblige  me  by 
answering  certain  questions  as  to  the  experience  of  Henry 
Scaddon?" 

"  Very  good.     Go  on." 

"  What  articles  of  property,  once  belonging  to  your  fellow- 
prisoner,  Maurice  Christian  Bycliffe,  do  you  still  retain  ?  " 

"  This  ring,"  said  Christian,  twirling  round  the  fine  seal-ring 
on  his  finger,  "  his  watch,  and  the  little  matters  that  hung  with 
it,  and  a  case  of  papers.  I  got  rid  of  a  gold  snuff-box  once 
when  I  was  hard-up.  The  clothes  are  all  gone,  of  course.  We 
exchanged  everything ;  it  was  all  done  in  a  hurry.  Bycliffe 
thought  we  should  meet  again  in  England  before  long,  and  he 
was  mad  to  get  there.  But  that  was  impossible  —  I  mean  that 
we  should  meet  soon  after.  I  don't  know  what 's  become  of 
him,  else  I  would  give  him  up  his  papers  and  the  watch,  and 
so  on  —  though,  you  know,  it  was  I  who  did  him  the  service, 
and  he  felt  that." 


FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL.  225 

"You  were  at  Vesoul  together  before  being  moved  to 
Verdun  ?  " 

"Yes." 

"  What  else  do  you  know  about  Bycliffe  ?  " 

"  Oh,  nothing  very  particular,"  said  Christian,  pausing,  and 
rapping  his  boot  with  his  cane.  "  He  'd  been  in  the  Hanoverian 
army  —  a  high-spirited  fellow,  took  nothing  easily ;  not  over- 
strong  in  health.  He  made  a  fool  of  himself  with  marrying 
at  Vesoul ;  and  there  was  the  devil  to  pay  with  the  girl's  rela- 
tions ;  and  then,  when  the  prisoners  were  ordered  off,  they 
had  to  part.  Whether  they  ever  got  together  again  I  don't 
know." 

"  Was  the  marriage  all  right  then  ?  " 

"Oh,  all  on  the  square  —  civil  marriage,  church  —  every- 
thing. Bycliffe  was  a  fool  —  a  good-natured,  proud,  headstrong 
fellow." 

"How  long  did  the  marriage  take  place  before  you  left 
Vesoul  ?  " 

"  About  three  months.     I  was  a  witness  to  the  marriage." 

"And  you  know  no  more  about  the  wife  ?  " 

"Not  afterwards.  I  knew  her  very  well  before  —  pretty 
Annette  —  Annette  Ledru  was  her  name.  She  was  of  a  good 
family,  and  they  had  made  up  a  fine  match  for  her.  But  she 
was  one  of  your  meek  little  diablesses,  who  have  a  will  of 
their  own  once  in  their  lives — the  will  to  choose  their  own 
master." 

"  Bycliffe  was  not  open  to  you  about  his  other  affairs  ?  " 

"  Oh  no  —  a  fellow  you  would  n't  dare  to  ask  a  question  of. 
People  told  him  everything,  but  he  told  nothing  in  return.  If 
Madame  Annette  ever  found  him  again,  she  found  her  lord  and 
master  with  a  vengeance ;  but  she  was  a  regular  lapdog.  How- 
ever, her  family  shut  her  up  —  made  a  prisoner  of  her  —  to 
prevent  her  running  away." 

"  Ah  —  good.  Much  of  what  you  have  been  so  obliging  as 
to  say  is  irrelevant  to  any  possible  purpose  of  mine,  which,  in 
fact,  has  to  do  only  with  a  mouldy  law-case  that  might  be  aired 
some  day.  You  will  doubtless,  on  your  own  account,  maintain 
perfect  silence  on  what  has  passed  between  us,  and  with  that 


226  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

condition  duly  preserved  —  a  —  it  is  possible  that — a  —  the 
lottery  you  have  put  into  —  as  you  observe  —  may  turn  up  a 
prize." 

"  This,  then,  is  all  the  business  you  have  with  me  ? "  said 
Christian,  rising. 

"  All.  You  will,  of  course,  preserve  carefully  all  the  papers 
and  other  articles  which  have  so  many  —  a  —  recollections  — 
a — attached  to  them  ?" 

"  Oh  yes.  If  there 's  any  chance  of  Bycliffe  turning  up 
again,  I  shall  be  sorry  to  have  parted  with  the  snuff-box ;  but 
I  was  hard-up  at  Naples.  In  fact,  as  you  see,  I  was  obliged 
at  last  to  turn  courier." 

"An  exceedingly  agreeable  life  for  a  man  of  some  —  a  — 
accomplishments  and  —  a  —  no  income,"  said  Jermyn,  rising, 
and  reaching  a  candle,  which  he  placed  against  his  desk. 

Christian  knew  this  was  a  sign  that  he  was  expected  to  go, 
but  he  lingered  standing,  with  one  hand  on  the  back  of  his 
chair.  At  last  he  said  rather  sulkily  — 

"  I  think  you  're  too  clever,  Mr.  Jermyn,  not  to  perceive  that 
I  'm  not  a  man  to  be  made  a  fool  of." 

"  Well  —  a  —  it  may  perhaps  be  a  still  better  guarantee  for 
you,"  said  Jermyn,  smiling,  "  that  I  see  no  use  in  attempting 
that  —  a  —  metamorphosis." 

"The  old  gentleman,  who  ought  never  to  have  felt  himself 
injured,  is  dead  now,  and  I  'm  not  afraid  of  creditors  after 
more  than  twenty  years." 

"  Certainly  not ;  —  a  —  there  may  indeed  be  claims  which 
can't  assert  themselves  —  a  —  legally,  which  yet  are  molesting 
to  a  man  of  some  reputation.  But  you  may  perhaps  be  hap- 
pily free  from  such  fears." 

Jermyn  drew  round  his  chair  towards  the  bureau,  and  Chris- 
tian, too  acute  to  persevere  uselessly,  said,  "  Good  day,"  and 
left  the  room. 

After  leaning  back  in  his  chair  to  reflect  a  few  minutes, 
Jermyn  wrote  the  following  letter :  — 

DEAR  JOHNSON,  —  I  learn  from  your  letter,  received  this  morning, 
that  you  intend  returning  to  town  on  Saturday. 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  227 

While  you  are  there,  be  so  good  as  to  see  Medwin,  who  used  to  be 
with  Batt  &  Cowley,  and  ascertain  from  him  indirectly,  and  in  the 
course  of  conversation  on  other  topics,  whether  in  that  old  business  in 
1810-11,  Scaddon  alias  Bycliffe,  or  Bycliffe  alias  Scaddon,  before  his 
imprisonment,  gave  Batt  &  Cowley  any  reason  to  believe  that  he  was 
married  and  expected  to  have  a  child.  The  question,  as  you  know,  is 
of  no  practical  importance ;  but  I  wish  to  draw  up  an  abstract  of  the 
Bycliffe  case,  and  the  exact  position  in  which  it  stood  before  the  suit 
was  closed  by  the  death  of  the  plaintiff,  in  order  that,  if  Mr.  Harold 
Transome  desires  it,  he  may  see  how  the  failure  of  the  last  claim 
has  secured  the  Durfey- Transome  title,  and  whether  there  is  a  bair's- 
breadth  of  chance  that  another  claim  should  be  set  up. 

Of  course  there  is  not  a  shadow  of  such  a  chance.  For  even  if  Batt 
&  Cowley  were  to  suppose  that  they  had  alighted  on  a  surviving  repre- 
sentative of  the  Bycliffes,  it  would  not  enter  into  their  heads  to  set  up 
a  new  claim,  since  they  brought  evidence  that  the  last  life  which  sus- 
pended the  Bycliffe  remainder  was  extinct  before  the  case  was  closed, 
a  good  twenty  years  ago. 

Still,  I  want  to  show  the  present  heir  of  the  Durfey-Transomes  the 
exact  condition  of  the  family  title  to  the  estates.  So  get  me  an  answer 
from  Medwin  on  the  above-mentioned  point. 

I  shall  meet  you  at  Duffield  next  week.     We  must  get  Transome 
returned.     Never  mind  his  having  been  a  little  rough  the  other  day, 
but  go  on  doing  what  you  know  is  necessary  for  his  interest.     His 
interest  is  mine,  which  I  need  not  say  is  John  Johnson's. 
Yours  faithfully, 

MATTHEW  JERMTN. 

When  the  attorney  had  sealed  this  letter  and  leaned  back 
in  his  chair  again,  he  was  inwardly  saying  — 

"  Now,  Mr.  Harold,  I  shall  shut  up  this  affair  in  a  private 
drawer  till  you  choose  to  take  any  extreme  measures  which, 
will  force  me  to  bring  it  out.  I  have  the  matter  entirely  in 
my  own  power.  No  one  but  old  Lyon  knows  about  the  girl's 
birth.  No  one  but  Scaddon  can  clench  the  evidence  about 
Bycliffe,  and  I  've  got  Scaddon  under  my  thumb.  No  soul 
except  myself  and  Johnson,  who  is  a  limb  of  myself,  knows 
that  there  is  one  half-dead  life  which  may  presently  leave  the 
girl  a  new  claim  to  the  Bycliffe  heirship.  I  shall  learn  through 
Methurst  whether  Batt  &  Cowley  knew,  through  Bycliffe, 
of  this  woman  having  come  to  Engand.  I  shall  hold  all  the 


228  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL. 

threads  between  my  thumb  and  finger.  I  can  use  the  evidence 
or  I  can  nullify  it. 

"  And  so,  if  Mr.  Harold  pushes  me  to  extremity,  and  threatens 
me  with  Chancery  and  ruin,  I  have  an  opposing  threat,  which 
will  either  save  me  or  turn  into  a  punishment  for  him." 

He  rose,  put  out  his  candles,  and  stood  with  his  back  to  the 
fire,  looking  out  on  the  dim  lawn,  with  its  black  twilight 
fringe  of  shrubs,  still  meditating.  Quick  thought  was  gleam- 
ing over  five-and-thirty  years  filled  with  devices  more  or  less 
clever,  more  or  less  desirable  to  be  avowed.  Those  which 
might  be  avowed  with  impunity  were  not  always  to  be  distin- 
guished as  innocent  by  comparison  with  those  which  it  was 
advisable  to  conceal.  In  a  profession  where  much  that  is 
noxious  may  be  done  without  disgrace,  is  a  conscience  likely 
to  be  without  balm  when  circumstances  have  urged  a  man 
to  overstep  the  line  where  his  good  technical  information 
makes  him  aware  that  (with  discovery)  disgrace  is  likely  to 
begin  ? 

With  regard  to  the  Transome  affairs,  the  family  had  been 
in  pressing  need  of  money,  and  it  had  lain  with  him  to  get  it 
for  them  :  was  it  to  be  expected  that  he  would  not  consider 
his  own  advantage  where  he  had  rendered  services  such  as  are 
never  fully  paid  ?  If  it  came  to  a  question  of  right  and  wrong 
instead  of  law,  the  least  justifiable  things  he  had  ever  done  had 
been  done  on  behalf  of  the  Transomes.  It  had  been  a  deucedly 
unpleasant  thing  for  him  to  get  Bycliffe  arrested  and  thrown 
into  prison  as  Henry  Scaddon — perhaps  hastening  the  man's 
death  in  that  way.  But  if  it  had  not  been  done  by  dint  of  his 
(Jermyn's)  exertions  and  tact,  he  would  like  to  know  where 
the  Durfey-Transomes  might  have  been  by  this  time.  As  for 
right  or  wrong,  if  the  truth  were  known,  the  very  possession 
of  the  estate  by  the  Durfey-Transomes  was  owing  to  law-tricks 
that  took  place  nearly  a  century  ago,  when  the  original  old 
Durfey  got  his  base  fee. 

But  inward  argument  of  this  sort  now,  as  always,  was  merged 
in  anger,  in  exasperation,  that  Harold,  precisely  Harold  Tran- 
some, should  have  turned  out  to  be  the  probable  instrument 
of  a  visitation  which  would  be  bad  luck,  not  justice ;  for  is 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  229 

there  any  justice  where  ninety-nine  out  of  a  hundred  escape  ? 
He  felt  himself  beginning  to  hate  Harold  as  he  had  never  — 

Just  then  Jermyn's  third  daughter,  a  tall  slim  girl,  wrapped 
in  a  white  woollen  shawl,  which  she  had  hung  over  her  blanket- 
wise,  skipped  across  the  lawn  towards  the  greenhouse  to  get  a 
flower.  Jermyn  was  startled,  and  did  not  identify  the  figure, 
or  rather  he  identified  it  falsely  with  another  tall  white- 
wrapped  figure  which  had  sometimes  set  his  heart  beating 
quickly  more  than  thirty  years  before.  For  a  moment  he  was 
fully  back  in  those  distant  years  when  he  and  another  bright- 
eyed  person  had  seen  no  reason  why  they  should  not  indulge 
their  passion  and  their  vanity,  and  determine  for  themselves 
how  their  lives  should  be  made  delightful  in  spite  of  unalter- 
able external  conditions.  The  reasons  had  been  unfolding 
themselves  gradually  ever  since  through  all  the  years  which 
had  converted  the  handsome,  soft-eyed,  slim  young  Jermyn 
(with  a  touch  of  sentiment)  into  a  portly  lawyer  of  sixty,  for 
whom  life  had  resolved  itself  into  the  means  of  keeping  up 
his  head  among  his  professional  brethren  and  maintaining  an 
establishment  —  into  a  gray-haired  husband  and  father,  whose 
third  affectionate  and  expensive  daughter  now  rapped  at  the 
window  and  called  to  him,  "  Papa,  papa,  get  ready  for  dinner ; 
don't  you  remember  that  the  Lukyns  are  coming  ?  " 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

Her  gentle  looks  shot  arrows,  piercing  him 
As  gods  are  pierced,  with  poison  of  sweet  pity. 

THE  evening  of  the  market-day  had  passed,  and  Felix  had 
not  looked  in  at  Malthouse  Yard  to  talk  over  the  public  events 
with  Mr.  Lyon.  When  Esther  was  dressing  the  next  morning, 
she  had  reached  a  point  of  irritated  anxiety  to  see  Felix,  at 
which  she  found  herself  devising  little  schemes  for  attaining 


230  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL. 

that  end  in  some  way  that  would  be  so  elaborate  as  to  seem 
perfectly  natural.  Her  watch  had  a  long-standing  ailment  of 
losing ;  possibly  it  wanted  cleaning  ;  Felix  would  tell  her  if  it 
merely  wanted  regulating,  whereas  Mr.  Prowd  might  detain  it 
unnecessarily,  and  cause  her  useless  inconvenience.  Or  could 
she  not  get  a  valuable  hint  from  Mrs.  Holt  about  the  home- 
made bread,  which  was  something  as  "  sad  "  as  Lyddy  herself  ? 
Or,  if  she  came  home  that  way  at  twelve  o'clock,  Felix  might 
be  going  out,  she  might  meet  him,  and  not  be  obliged  to  call. 
Or  —  but  it  would  be  very  much  beneath  her  to  take  any  steps 
of  this  sort.  Her  watch  had  been  losing  for  the  last  two 
months  —  why  should  it  not  go  on  losing  a  little  longer  ?  She 
could  think  of  no  devices  that  were  not  so  transparent  as  to  be 
undignified.  All  the  more  undignified  because  Felix  chose  to 
live  in  a  way  that  would  prevent  any  one  from  classing  him 
according  to  his  education  and  mental  refinement  —  "  which 
certainly  are  very  high,"  said  Esther  inwardly,  coloring,  as  if 
in  answer  to  some  contrary  allegation,  "else  I  should  not 
think  his  opinion  of  any  consequence."  But  she  came  to  the 
conclusion  that  she  could  not  possibly  call  at  Mrs.  Holt's. 

It  followed  that  up  to  a  few  minutes  past  twelve,  when  she 
reached  the  turning  towards  Mrs.  Holt's,  she  believed  that 
she  should  go  home  the  other  way ;  but  at  the  last  moment 
there  is  always  a  reason  not  existing  before  —  namely,  the 
impossibility  of  further  vacillation.  Esther  turned  the  cor- 
ner without  any  visible  pause,  and  in  another  minute  was 
knocking  at  Mrs.  Holt's  door,  not  without  an  inward  flutter, 
which  she  was  bent  on  disguising. 

"  It 's  never  you,  Miss  Lyon !  who  'd  have  thought  of  seeing 
you  at  this  time  ?  Is  the  minister  ill  ?  I  thought  he  looked 
creechy.  If  you  want  help,  I  '11  put  my  bonnet  on." 

"  Don't  keep  Miss  Lyon  at  the  door,  mother ;  ask  her  to 
come  in,"  said  the  ringing  voice  of  Felix,  surmounting  various 
small  shufflings  and  babbling  voices  within. 

"  It 's  my  wish  for  her  to  come  in,  I  'm  sure,"  said  Mrs. 
Holt,  making  way  ;  "  but  what  is  there  for  her  to  come  in  to  ? 
a  floor  worse  than  any  public.  But  step  in,  pray,  if  you  're 
so  inclined.  When  I  've  been  forced  to  take  my  bit  of  carpet 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  231 

up,  and  have  benches,  I  don't  see  why  I  need  mind  nothing 
no  more." 

"  I  only  came  to  ask  Mr.  Holt  if  he  would  look  at  my  watch 
for  me,"  said  Esther,  entering,  and  blushing  a  general  rose- 
color. 

"  He  '11  do  that  fast  enough,"  said  Mrs.  Holt,  with  empha- 
sis ;  "  that 's  one  of  the  things  he  will  do." 

"  Excuse  my  rising,  Miss  Lyon,"  said  Felix ;  "  I  'm  binding 
up  Job's  finger." 

Job  was  a  small  fellow  about  five,  with  a  germinal  nose, 
large  round  blue  eyes,  and  red  hair  that  curled  close  to  his 
head  like  the  wool  on  the  back  of  an  infantine  lamb.  He  had 
evidently  been  crying,  and  the  corners  of  his  mouth  were  still 
dolorous.  Felix  held  him  on  his  knee  as  he  bound  and  tied 
up  very  cleverly  a  tiny  forefinger.  There  was  a  table  in  front 
of  Felix  and  against  the  window,  covered  with  his  watch- 
making implements  and  some  open  books.  Two  benches 
stood  at  right  angles  on  the  sanded  floor,  and  six  or  seven 
boys  of  various  ages  up  to  twelve  were  getting  their  caps  and 
preparing  to  go  home.  They  huddled  themselves  together 
and  stood  still  when  Esther  entered.  Felix  could  not  look  up 
till  he  had  finished  his  surgery,  but  he  went  on  speaking. 

"  This  is  a  hero,  Miss  Lyon.  This  is  Job  Tudge,  a  bold 
Briton  whose  finger  hurts  him,  but  who  does  n't  mean  to  cry. 
Good  morning,  boys.  Don't  lose  your  time.  Get  out  into 
the  air." 

Esther  seated  herself  on  the  end  of  the  bench  near  Felix, 
much  relieved  that  Job  was  the  immediate  object  of  atten- 
tion ;  and  the  other  boys  rushed  out  behind  her  with  a  brief 
chant  of  "  Good  morning  !  " 

"  Did  you  ever  see,"  said  Mrs.  Holt,  standing  to  look  on, 
"  how  wonderful  Felix  is  at  that  small  work  with  his  large 
fingers  ?  And  that 's  because  he  learnt  doctoring.  It  is  n't 
for  want  of  cleverness  he  looks  like  a  poor  man,  Miss  Lyon. 
I  've  left  off  speaking,  else  I  should  say  it 's  a  sin  and  a 
shame." 

"  Mother,"  said  Felix,  who  often  amused  himself  and  kept 
good-humored  by  giving  his  mother  answers  that  were  unin- 


232  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL. 

telligible  to  her,  "you  have  an  astonishing  readiness  in  the 
Ciceronian  antiphrasis,  considering  you  have  never  studied 
oratory.  There,  Job  —  thou  patient  man  —  sit  still  if  thou 
wilt ;  and  now  we  can  look  at  Miss  Lyon." 

Esther  had  taken  off  her  watch  and  was  holding  it  in  her 
hand.  But  he  looked  at  her  face,  or  rather  at  her  eyes,  as  he 
said,  "  You  want  me  to  doctor  your  watch  ?  " 

Esther's  expression  was  appealing  and  timid,  as  it  had 
never  been  before  in  Felix's  presence  ;  but  when  she  saw  the 
perfect  calmness,  which  to  her  seemed  coldness,  of  his  clear 
gray  eyes,  as  if  he  saw  no  reason  for  attaching  any  emphasis 
to  this  first  meeting,  a  pang  swift  as  an  electric  shock  darted 
through  her.  She  had  been  very  foolish  to  think  so  much  of 
it.  It  seemed  to  her  as  if  her  inferiority  to  Felix  made  a 
great  gulf  between  them.  She  could  not  at  once  rally  her 
pride  and  self-command,  but  let  her  glance  fall  on  her  watch, 
and  said,  rather  tremulously,  "  It  loses.  It  is  very  trouble- 
some. It  has  been  losing  a  long  while." 

Felix  took  the  watch  from  her  hand ;  then,  looking  round 
and  seeing  that  his  mother  was  gone  out  of  the  room,  he  said, 
Very  gently  — 

"  You  look  distressed,  Miss  Lyon.  I  hope  there  is  no 
trouble  at  home  "  (Felix  was  thinking  of  the  minister's  agita- 
tion on  the  previous  Sunday).  "  But  I  ought  perhaps  to  beg 
your  pardon  for  saying  so  much." 

Poor  Esther  was  quite  helpless.  The  mortification  which 
had  come  like  a  bruise  to  all  the  sensibilities  that  had  been 
in  keen  activity,  insisted  on  some  relief.  Her  eyes  filled  in- 
stantly, and  a  great  tear  rolled  down  while  she  said  in  a  loud 
sort  of  whisper,  as  involuntary  as  her  tears  — 

"  I  wanted  to  tell  you  that  I  was  not  offended  —  that  I  am 
not  ungenerous  —  I  thought  you  might  think  —  but  you  have 
not  thought  of  it." 

Was  there  ever  more  awkward  speaking  ?  —  or  any  behavior 
less  like  that  of  the  graceful,  self-possessed  Miss  Lyon,  whose 
phrases  were  usually  so  well  turned,  and  whose  repartees  were 
so  ready  ? 

For  a  moment  there  was  silence.     Esther  had  her  two  little 


FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL.  233 

delicately  gloved  hands  clasped  on  the  table.  The  next  mo- 
ment she  felt  one  hand  of  Felix  covering  them  both  and  press- 
ing them  firmly  ;  but  he  did  not  speak.  The  tears  were  both 
on  her  cheeks  now,  and  she  could  look  up  at  him.  His  eyes 
had  an  expression  of  sadness  in  them,  quite  new  to  her.  Sud- 
denly little  Job,  who  had  his  mental  exercises  on  the  occasion, 
called  out,  impatiently  — 

"  She  's  tut  her  finger  !  " 

Felix  and  Esther  laughed,  and  drew  their  hands  away  ;  and 
as  Esther  took  her  handkerchief  to  wipe  the  tears  from  her 
cheeks,  she  said  — 

"  You  see,  Job,  I  am  a  naughty  coward.  I  can't  help  crying 
when  I  've  hurt  myself." 

"  Zoo  sood  n't  kuy,"  said  Job,  energetically,  being  much  im- 
pressed with  a  moral  doctrine  which  had  come  to  him  after  a 
sufficient  transgression  of  it. 

"Job  is  like  me,"  said  Felix,  "fonder  of  preaching  than 
of  practice.  But  let  us  look  at  this  same  watch,"  he  went  on, 
opening  and  examining  it.  "These  little  Geneva  toys  are 
cleverly  constructed  to  go  always  a  little  wrong.  But  if  you 
wind  them  up  and  set  them  regularly  every  night,  you  may 
know  at  least  that  it 's  not  noon  when  the  hand  points  there." 

Felix  chatted,  that  Esther  might  recover  herself ;  but  now 
Mrs.  Holt  came  back  and  apologized. 

"You'll  excuse  my  going  away,  I  know,  Miss  Lyon.  But 
there  were  the  dumplings  to  see  to,  and  what  little  I  've  got  left 
on  my  hands  now,  I  like  to  do  well.  Not  but  what  I  've  more 
cleaning  to  do  than  ever  I  had  in  my  life  before,  as  you  may 
tell  soon  enough  if  you  look  at  this  floor.  But  when  you  've 
been  used  to  doing  things,  and  they  've  been  taken  away  from 
you,  it 's  as  if  your  hands  had  been  cut  off,  and  you  felt  the 
fingers  as  are  of  no  xise  to  you." 

"That's  a  great  image,  mother,"  said  Felix,  as  he  snapped 
the  watch  together,  and  handed  it  to  Esther :  "  I  never  heard 
you  use  such  an  image  before." 

"  Yes,  I  know  you  've  always  some  fault  to  find  with  what 
your  mother  says.  But  if  ever  there  was  a  woman  could  talk 
with  the  open  Bible  before  her,  and  not  be  afraid,  it 's  me.  I 


234  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL. 

never  did  tell  stories,  and  I  never  will  —  though  I  know  it 's 
done,  Miss  Lyon,  and  by  church  members  too,  when  they  have 
candles  to  sell,  as  I  could  bring  you  the  proof.  But  I  never 
was  one  of  'em,  let  Felix  say  what  he  will  about  the  printing 
on  the  tickets.  His  father  believed  it  was  gospel  truth,  and 
it 's  presumptuous  to  say  it  was  n't.  For  as  for  curing,  how 
can  anybody  know  ?  There 's  no  physic  '11  cure  without  a 
blessing,  and  with  a  blessing  I  know  I  've  seen  a  mustard  plais- 
ter  work  when  there  was  no  more  smell  nor  strength  in  the 
mustard  than  so  much  flour.  And  reason  good  —  for  the  mus- 
tard had  lain  in  paper  nobody  knows  how  long  —  so  I  '11  leave 
you  to  guess." 

Mrs.  Holt  looked  hard  out  of  the  window  and  gave  a  slight 
inarticulate  sound  of  scorn. 

Felix  had  leaned  back  in  his  chair  with  a  resigned  smile, 
and  was  pinching  Job's  ears. 

Esther  said,  "  I  think  I  had  better  go  now,"  not  knowing 
what  else  to  say,  yet  not  wishing  to  go  immediately,  lest  she 
should  seem  to  be  running  away  from  Mrs.  Holt.  She  felt 
keenly  how  much  endurance  there  must  be  for  Felix.  And 
she  had  often  been  discontented  with  her  father,  and  called 
him  tiresome ! 

"  Where  does  Job  Tudge  live  ?  "  she  said,  still  sitting,  and 
looking  at  the  droll  little  figure,  set  off  by  a  ragged  jacket 
with  a  tail  about  two  inches  deep  sticking  out  above  the  fun- 
niest of  corduroys. 

"Job  has  two  mansions,"  said  Felix.  "  He  lives  here  chiefly; 
but  he  has  another  home,  where  his  grandfather,  Mr.  Tudge, 
the  stone-breaker,  lives.  My  mother  is  very  good  to  Job,  Miss 
Lyon.  She  has  made  him  a  little  bed  in  a  cupboard,  and  she 
gives  him  sweetened  porridge." 

The  exquisite  goodness  implied  in  these  words  of  Felix 
impressed  Esther  the  more,  because  in  her  hearing  his  talk 
had  usually  been  pungent  and  denunciatory.  Looking  at  Mrs. 
Holt,  she  saw  that  her  eyes  had  lost  their  bleak  north-easterly 
expression,  and  were  shining  with  some  mildness  on  little  Job, 
who  had  turned  round  towards  her,  propping  his  head  against 
Felix. 


FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL.  235 

"Well,  why  shouldn't  I  be  motherly  to  the  child,  Miss 
Lyon  ?  "  said  Mrs.  Holt,  whose  strong  powers  of  argument  re- 
quired the  file  of  an  imagined  contradiction,  if  there  were  no 
real  one  at  hand.  "  I  never  was  hard-hearted,  and  I  never  will 
be.  It  was  Felix  picked  the  child  up  and  took  to  him,  you  may 
be  sure,  for  there  's  nobody  else  master  where  he  is ;  but  I 
was  n't  going  to  beat  the  orphan  child  and  abuse  him  because 
of  that,  and  him  as  straight  as  an  arrow  when  he 's  stript,  and 
me  so  fond  of  children,  and  only  had  one  of  my  own  to  live. 
I  'd  three  babies,  Miss  Lyon,  but  the  blessed  Lord  only  spared 
Felix,  and  him  the  rnasterfullest  and  the  brownest  of  'em  all. 
But  I  did  my  duty  by  him,  and  I  said,  he  '11  have  more  school- 
ing than  his  father,  and  he  '11  grow  up  a  doctor,  and  marry  a 
woman  with  money  to  furnish  —  as  I  was  myself,  spoons  and 
everything  —  and  I  shall  have  the  grandchildren  to  look  up 
to  me,  and  be  drove  out  in  the  gig  sometimes,  like  old  Mrs. 
Lukyn.  And  you  see  what  it 's  all  come  to,  Miss  Lyon :  here 's 
Felix  made  a  common  man  of  himself,  and  says  he  '11  never  be 
married  —  which  is  the  most  unreasonable  thing,  and  him  never 
easy  but  when  he 's  got  the  child  on  his  lap,  or  when  —  " 

"  Stop,  stop,  mother,"  Felix  burst  in  ;  "  pray  don't  use  that 
limping  argument  again  —  that  a  man  should  marry  because 
he  's  fond  of  children.  That 's  a  reason  for  not  marrying.  A 
bachelor's  children  are  always  young :  they  're  immortal  chil- 
dren —  always  lisping,  waddling,  helpless,  and  with  a  chance 
of  turning  out  good." 

"  The  Lord  above  may  know  what  you  mean  !  And  have  n't 
other  folk's  children  a  chance  of  turning  out  good  ?  " 

"  Oh,  they  grow  out  of  it  very  fast.  Here  's  Job  Tudge 
now,"  said  Felix,  turning  the  little  one  round  on  his  knee,  and 
holding  his  head  by  the  back  —  "  Job's  limbs  will  get  lanky  ; 
this  little  fist  that  looks  like  a  puff-ball  and  can  hide  nothing 
bigger  than  a  gooseberry,  will  get  large  and  bony,  and  perhaps 
want  to  clutch  more  than  its  share ;  these  wide  blue  eyes  that 
tell  me  more  truth  than  Job  knows,  will  narrow  and  narrow 
and  try  to  hide  truth  that  Job  would  be  better  without  know- 
ing ;  this  little  negative  nose  will  become  long  and  self-assert- 
ing; and  this  little  tongue  —  put  out  thy  tongue,  Job"  —  Job, 


236  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL. 

awe-struck  under  this  ceremony,  put  out  a  little  red  tongue 
very  timidly  — "  this  tongue,  hardly  bigger  than  a  rose-leaf, 
will  get  large  and  thick,  wag  out  of  season,  do  mischief,  brag 
and  cant  for  gain  or  vanity,  and  cut  as  cruelly,  for  all  its  clum- 
siness, as  if  it  were  a  sharp-edged  blade.  Big  Job  will  perhaps 
be  naughty  — "  As  Felix,  speaking  with  the  loud  emphatic 
distinctness  habitual  to  him,  brought  out  this  terribly  familiar 
word,  Job's  sense  of  mystification  became  too  painful :  he  hung 
his  lip  and  began  to  cry. 

"See  there,"  said  Mrs.  Holt,  "you're  frightening  the  inni- 
cent  child  with  such  talk  —  and  it 's  enough  to  frighten  them 
that  think  themselves  the  safest." 

"  Look  here,  Job,  my  man,"  said  Felix,  setting  the  boy  down 
and  turning  him  towards  Esther ;  "  go  to  Miss  Lyon,  ask  her 
to  smile  at  you,  and  that  will  dry  up  your  tears  like  the  sun- 
shine." 

Job  put  his  two  brown  fists  on  Esther 's  lap,  and  she 
stooped  to  kiss  him.  Then  holding  his  face  between  her  hands, 
she  said,  "  Tell  Mr.  Holt  we  don't  mean  to  be  naughty,  Job. 
He  should  believe  in  us  more.  But  now  I  must  really  go 
home." 

Esther  rose  and  held  out  her  hand  to  Mrs.  Holt,  who  kept  it 
while  she  said,  a  little  to  Esther 's  confusion  — 

"  I  am  very  glad  it 's  took  your  fancy  to  come  here  sometimes, 
Miss  Lyon.  I  know  you  're  thought  to  hold  your  head  high,  but 
I  speak  of  people  as  I  find  'em.  And  I  'm  sure  anybody  had 
need  be  humble  that  comes  where  there  's  a  floor  like  this  — 
for  I  've  put  by  my  best  tea-traj^s,  they  're  so  out  of  all  charic- 
ter  —  I  must  look  Above  for  comfort  now ;  but  I  don't  say  I  'in 
not  worthy  to  be  called  on  for  all  that." 

Felix  had  risen  and  moved  towards  the  door  that  he  might 
open  it  and  shield  Esther  from  more  last  words  on  his  mother's 
part. 

"Good-by,  Mr.  Holt." 

"  Will  Mr.  Lyon  like  me  to  sit  with  him  an  hour  this  even- 
ing, do  you  think  ?  " 

"  Why  not  ?     He  always  likes  to  see  you." 

"  Then  I  will  come.     Good-by." 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  237 

"  She 's  a  very  straight  figure,"  said  Mrs.  Holt.  "  How  she 
carries  herself  !  But  I  doubt  there  's  some  truth  in  what  our 
people  say.  If  she  won't  look  at  young  Muscat,  it 's  the  better 
for  him.  He  'd  need  have  a  big  fortune  that  marries  her." 

"  That 's  true,  mother,"  said  Felix,  sitting  down,  snatching 
up  little  Job,  and  finding  a  vent  for  some  unspeakable  feeling 
in  the  pretence  of  worrying  him. 

Esther  was  rather  melancholy  as  she  went  home,  yet  hap- 
pier withal  than  she  had  been  for  many  days  before.  She 
thought,  "I  need  not  mind  having  shown  so  much  anxiety 
about  his  opinion.  He  is  too  clear-sighted  to  mistake  our  mutual 
position;  he  is  quite  above  putting  a  false  interpretation  on 
what  I  have  done.  Besides,  he  had  not  thought  of  me  at  all  — 
I  saw  that  plainly  enough.  Yet  he  was  very  kind.  There  is 
something  greater  and  better  in  him  than  I  had  imagined.  His 
behavior  to-day  —  to  his  mother  and  me  too  —  I  should  call 
it  the  highest  gentlemanliness,  only  it  seems  in  him  to  be  some- 
thing deeper.  But  he  has  chosen  an  intolerable  life ;  though  I 
suppose,  if  I  had  a  mind  equal  to  his,  and  if  he  loved  me  very 
dearly,  I  should  choose  the  same  life." 

Esther  felt  that  she  had  prefixed  an  impossible  "  if  "  to  that 
result.  But  now  she  had  known  Felix,  her  conception  of 
what  a  happy  love  must  be  had  become  like  a  dissolving  view, 
in  which  the  once-clear  images  were  gradually  melting  into  new 
forms  and  new  colors.  The  favorite  Byronic  heroes  were  be- 
ginning to  look  something  like  last  night's  decorations  seen  in 
the  sober  dawn.  So  fast  does  a  little  leaven  spread  within  us 

—  so  incalculable  is  the  effect  of  one  personality  on  another. 
Behind  all  Esther's  thoughts,  like  an  unacknowledged  yet  con- 
straining presence,  there  was  the  sense,  that  if  Felix  Holt  were 
to  love  her,  her  life  would  be  exalted  into  something  quite  new 

—  into  a  sort  of  difficult  blessedness,  such  as  one  may  imagine 
in  beings  who  are  conscious  of  painfully  growing  into  the  pos- 
session of  higher  powers. 

It  was  quite  true  that  Felix  had  not  thought  the  more  of 
Esther  because  of  that  Sunday  afternoon's  interview  which 
had  shaken  her  mind  to  the  very  roots.  He  had  avoided 
intruding  on  Mr.  Lyon  without  special  reason,  because  he 


238  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

believed  the  minister  to  be  preoccupied  with  some  private 
care.  He  had  thought  a  great  deal  of  Esther  with  a  mixture 
of  strong  disapproval  and  strong  liking,  which  both  together 
made  a  feeling  the  reverse  of  indifference ;  but  he  was  not 
going  to  let  her  have  any  influence  on  his  life.  Even  if  his 
determination  had  not  been  fixed,  he  would  have  believed  that 
she  would  utterly  scorn  him  in  any  other  light  than  that  of 
an  acquaintance,  and  the  emotion  she  had  shown  to-day  did 
not  change  that  belief.  But  he  was  deeply  touched  by  this 
manifestation  of  her  better  qualities,  and  felt  that  there  was 
a  new  tie  of  friendship  between  them.  That  was  the  brief 
history  Felix  would  have  given  of  his  relation  to  Esther. 
And  he  was  accustomed  to  observe  himself.  But  very  close 
and  diligent  looking  at  living  creatures,  even  through  the 
best  microscope,  will  leave  room  for  new  and  contradictory 
discoveries. 

Felix  found  Mr.  Lyon  particularly  glad  to  talk  to  him. 
The  minister  had  never  yet  disburthened  himself  about  his 
letter  to  Mr.  Philip  Debarry  concerning  the  public  confer- 
ence ;  and  as  by  this  time  he  had  all  the  heads  of  his  discus- 
sion thoroughly  in  his  mind,  it  was  agreeable  to  recite  them, 
as  well  as  to  express  his  regret  that  time  had  been  lost  by 
Mr.  Debarry's  absence  from  the  Manor,  which  had  prevented 
the  immediate  fulfilment  of  his  pledge. 

"I  don't  see  how  he  can  fulfil  it  if  the  Eector  refuses," 
said  Felix,  thinking  it  well  to  moderate  the  little  man's 
confidence. 

"  The  Eector  is  of  a  spirit  that  will  not  incur  earthly  im- 
peachment, and  he  cannot  refuse  what  is  necessary  to  his 
nephew's  honorable  discharge  of  an  obligation,"  said  Mr.  Lyon. 
"My  young  friend,  it  is  a  case  wherein  the  prearranged  condi- 
tions tend  by  such  a  beautiful  fitness  to  the  issue  I  have  sought, 
that  I  should  have  forever  held  myself  a  traitor  to  my  charge 
had  I  neglected  the  indication." 


FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL.  239 


CHAPTER   XXIII. 

I  will  not  excuse  you ;  you  shall  not  be  excused ;  excuses  shall  not  be  ad- 
mitted ;  there  'a  no  excuse  shall  serve ;  you  shall  not  be  excused. — Henry  IV. 

WHEN  Philip  Debarry  had  come  home  that  morning  and 
read  the  letters  which  had  not  been  forwarded  to  him,  he 
laughed  so  heartily  at  Mr.  Lyon's  that  he  congratulated  him- 
self on  being  in  his  private  room.  Otherwise  his  laughter 
would  have  awakened  the  curiosity  of  Sir  Maxim  us,  and 
Philip  did  not  wish  to  tell  any  one  the  contents  of  the  let- 
ter until  he  had  shown  them  to  his  uncle.  He  determined 
to  ride  over  to  the  Rectory  to  lunch ;  for  as  Lady  Mary  was 
away,  he  and  his  uncle  might  be  tete-a-tete. 

The  Rectory  was  on  the  other  side  of  the  river,  close  to  the 
church  of  which  it  was  the  fitting  companion :  a  fine  old  brick- 
and-stone  house,  with  a  great  bow-window  opening  from  the 
library  on  to  the  deep-turfed  lawn,  one  fat  dog  sleeping  on  the 
door-stone,  another  fat  dog  waddling  on  the  gravel,  the  autumn 
leaves  duly  swept  away,  the  lingering  chrysanthemums  cher- 
ished, tall  trees  stooping  or  soaring  in  the  most  picturesque 
variety,  and  a  Virginian  creeper  turning  a  little  rustic  hut 
into  a  scarlet  pavilion.  It  was  one  of  those  rectories  which 
are  among  the  bulwarks  of  our  venerable  institutions  —  which 
arrest  disintegrating  doubt,  serve  as  a  double  embankment 
against  Popery  and  Dissent,  and  rally  feminine  instinct  and 
affection  to  reinforce  the  decisions  of  masculine  thought. 

"  What  makes  you  look  so  merry,  Phil  ?  "  said  the  Rector, 
as  his  nephew  entered  the  pleasant  library. 

"Something  that  concerns  you,"  said  Philip,  taking  out  the 
letter.  "A  clerical  challenge.  Here  's  an  opportunity  for  you 
to  emulate  the  divines  of  the  sixteenth  century  and  have  a 
theological  duel.  Read  this  letter." 

"What  answer  have  you  sent  the  crazy  little  fellow?  "  said 
the  Rector,  keeping  the  letter  in  his  hand  and  running  over 


240  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

it  again  and  again,  with  brow  knit,  but  eyes  gleaming  without 
any  malignity. 

"  Oh,  I  sent  no  answer.     I  awaited  yours." 

"  Mine ! "  said  the  Hector,  throwing  down  the  letter  on  the 
table.  "  You  don't  suppose  I  'm  going  to  hold  a  public  debate 
with  a  schismatic  of  that  sort  ?  I  should  have  an  infidel  shoe- 
maker next  expecting  me  to  answer  blasphemies  delivered  in 
bad  grammar." 

"  But  you  see  how  he  puts  it,"  said  Philip.  With  all  his 
gravity  of  nature  he  could  not  resist  a  slightly  mischievous 
prompting,  though  he  had  a  serious  feeling  that  he  should  not 
like  to  be  regarded  as  failing  to  fulfil  his  pledge.  "  I  think  if 
you  refuse,  I  shall  be  obliged  to  offer  myself." 

"  Nonsense  !  Tell  him  he  is  himself  acting  a  dishonorable 
part  in  interpreting  your  words  as  a  pledge  to  do  any  prepos- 
terous thing  that  suits  his  fancy.  Suppose  he  had  asked  you  to 
give  him  land  to  build  a  chapel  on ;  doubtless  that  would  have 
given  him  a  '  lively  satisfaction.'  A  man  who  puts  a  non-natu- 
ral strained  sense  on  a  promise,  is  no  better  than  a  robber." 

"  But  he  has  not  asked  for  land.  I  dare  say  he  thinks  you 
won't  object  to  his  proposal.  I  confess  there  's  a  simplicity 
and  quaintness  about  the  letter  that  rather  pleases  me." 

"  Let  me  tell  you,  Phil,  he  's  a  crazy  little  firefly,  that  does 
a  great  deal  of  harm  in  my  parish.  He  inflames  the  Dissen- 
ters' minds  on  politics.  There 's  no  end  to  the  mischief  done 
by  these  busy  prating  men.  They  make  the  ignorant  multi- 
tude the  judges  of  the  largest  questions,  both  political  and 
religious,  till  we  shall  soon  have  no  institution  left  that  is 
not  on  a  level  with  the  comprehension  of  a  huckster  or  a 
drayman.  There  can  be  nothing  more  retrograde  —  losing  all 
the  results  of  civilization,  all  the  lessons  of  Providence  —  let- 
ting the  windlass  run  down  after  men  have  been  turning  at  it 
painfully  for  generations.  If  the  instructed  are  not  to  judge 
for  the  uninstructed,  why,  let  us  set  Dick  Stubbs  to  make  our 
almanacs,  and  have  a  President  of  the  Royal  Society  elected 
by  universal  suffrage." 

The  Eector  had  risen,  placed  himself  with  his  back  to 
the  fire,  and  thrust  his  hands  in  his  pockets,  ready  to  insist 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  241 

further  on  this  wide  argument.  Philip  sat  nursing  one  leg, 
listening  respectfully,  as  he  always  did,  though  often  listening 
to  the  sonorous  echo  of  his  own  statements,  which  suited 
his  uncle's  needs  so  exactly  that  he  did  not  distinguish  them 
from  his  old  impressions. 

"  True,"  said  Philip,  "  but  in  special  cases  we  have  to  do 
with  special  conditions.  You  know  I  defend  the  casuists. 
And  it  may  happen  that,  for  the  honor  of  the  Church  in 
Treby  and  a  little  also  for  my  honor,  circumstances  may  de- 
mand a  concession  even  to  some  notions  of  a  Dissenting 
preacher." 

"  Not  at  all.  I  should  be  making  a  figure  which  my  brother 
clergy  might  well  take  as  an  affront  to  themselves.  The  char- 
acter of  the  Establishment  has  suffered  enough  already  through 
the  Evangelicals,  with  their  extempore  incoherence  and  their 
pipe-smoking  piety.  Look  at  Wimple,  the  man  who  is  vicar 
of  Shuttleton  —  without  his  gown  and  bands,  anybody  would 
take  him  for  a  grocer  in  mourning." 

"Well,  I  shall  cut  a  still  worse  figure,  and  so  will  you,  in 
the  Dissenting  magazines  and  newspapers.  It  will  go  the 
round  of  the  kingdom.  There  will  be  a  paragraph  headed, 
'  Tory  Falsehood  and  Clerical  Cowardice,'  or  else  '  The  Mean- 
ness of  the  Aristocracy  and  the  Incompetence  of  the  Beneficed 
Clergy.' " 

"  There  would  be  a  worse  paragraph  if  I  were  to  consent  to 
the  debate.  Of  course  it  would  be  said  that  I  was  beaten  hol- 
low, and  that  now  the  question  had  been  cleared  up  at  Treby 
Magna,  the  Church  had  not  a  sound  leg  to  stand  on.  Besides," 
the  Rector  went  on,  frowning  and  smiling,  "  it 's  all  very  well 
for  you  to  talk,  Phil,  but  this  debating  is  not  so  easy  when  a 
man  's  close  upon  sixty.  What  one  writes  or  says  must  be 
something  good  and  scholarly ;  and  after  all  had  been  done, 
this  little  Lyon  would  buzz  about  one  like  a  wasp,  and  cross- 
question  and  rejoin.  Let  me  tell  you,  a  plain  truth  may  be 
so  worried  and  mauled  by  fallacies  as  to  get  the  worst  of  it. 
There 's  no  such  thing  as  tiring  a  talking  machine  like  Lyon." 

"  Then  you  absolutely  refuse  ?  " 

"Yes,  I  do." 

VOL.    III.  16 


242  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL. 

"  You  remember  that  when  I  wrote  my  letter  of  thanks  to 
Lyon  you  approved  my  offer  to  serve  him  if  possible." 

"  Certainly  I  remember  it.  But  suppose  he  had  asked  you 
to  vote  for  civil  marriage,  or  to  go  and  hear  him  preach  every 
Sunday  ? " 

"  But  he  has  not  asked  that." 

"  Something  as  unreasonable,  though." 

"  Well,"  said  Philip,  taking  up  Mr.  Lyon's  letter  and  look- 
ing graver  —  looking  even  vexed,  "  it  is  rather  an  unpleasant 
business  for  me.  I  really  felt  obliged  to  him.  I  think  there 's 
a  sort  of  worth  in  the  man  beyond  his  class.  Whatever  may 
be  the  reason  of  the  case,  I  shall  disappoint  him  instead  of 
doing  him  the  service  I  offered." 

"  Well,  that 's  a  misfortune  ;  we  can't  help  it." 

"  The  worst  of  it  is,  I  should  be  insulting  him  to  say, '  I  will 
do  anything  else,  but  not  just  this  that  you  want.'  He  evi- 
dently feels  himself  in  company  with  Luther  and  Zwingle 
and  Calvin,  and  considers  our  letters  part  of  the  history  of 
Protestantism." 

"  Yes,  yes.  I  know  it 's  rather  an  unpleasant  thing,  Phil. 
You  are  aware  that  I  would  have  done  anything  in  reason  to 
prevent  you  from  becoming  unpopular  here.  I  consider  your 
character  a  possession  to  all  of  us." 

"I  think  I  must  call  on  him  forthwith  and  explain  and 
apologize." 

"  No,  sit  still ;  I  've  thought  of  something,"  said  the  Eector, 
with  a  sudden  revival  of  spirits.  "  I  've  just  seen  Sherlock 
coming  in.  He  is  to  lunch  with  me  to-day.  It  would  do  no 
harm  for  him  to  hold  the  debate  —  a  curate  and  a  young  man 

—  he  '11  gain  by  it ;  and  it  would  release  you  from  any  awk- 
wardness, Phil.     Sherlock  is  not  going  to  stay  here  long,  you 
know ;    he  '11   soon   have   his   title.      I  '11   put   the   thing   to 
him.     He  won't  object  if  I  wish  it.     It 's  a  capital  idea.     It 
will  do  Sherlock  good.     He 's  a  clever  fellow,  but  he  wants 
confidence." 

Philip  had  not  time  to  object  before  Mr.  Sherlock  appeared 

—  a  young  divine  of  good  birth  and  figure,  of  sallow  complex- 
ion and  bashful  address. 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  243 

"Sherlock,  you  have  come  in  most  opportunely,"  said  the 
Eector.  "  A  case  has  turned  up  in  the  parish  in  which  you 
can  be  of  eminent  use.  I  know  that  is  what  you  have  desired 
ever  since  you  have  been  with  me.  But  I  'm  about  so  much 
myself  that  there  really  has  not  been  sphere  enough  for  you. 
You  are  a  studious  man,  I  know ;  I  dare  say  you  have  all  the 
necessary  matter  prepared  —  at  your  finger-ends,  if  not  on 
paper." 

Mr.  Sherlock  smiled  with  rather  a  trembling  lip,  willing  to 
distinguish  himself,  but  hoping  that  the  Kector  only  alluded 
to  a  dialogue  on  Baptism  by  Aspersion,  or  some  other  pam- 
phlet suited  to  the  purposes  of  the  Christian  Knowledge  So- 
ciety. But  as  the  Rector  proceeded  to  unfold  the  circum- 
stances under  which  his  eminent  service  was  to  be  rendered, 
he  grew  more  and  more  nervous. 

"  You  '11  oblige  me  very  much,  Sherlock,"  the  Eector  ended, 
"by  going  into  this  thing  zealously.  Can  you  guess  what 
time  you  will  require  ?  because  it  will  rest  with  us  to  fix  the 
day." 

"I  should  be  rejoiced  to  oblige  you,  Mr.  Debarry,  but  I 
really  think  I  am  not  competent  to  — " 

"That's  your  modesty,  Sherlock.  Don't  let  me  hear  any 
more  of  that.  I  know  Filmore  of  Corpus  said  you  might  be 
a  first-rate  man  if  your  diffidence  didn't  do  you  injustice. 
And  you  can  refer  anything  to  me,  you  know.  Come,  you 
will  set  about  the  thing  at  once.  But,  Phil,  you  must  tell  the 
preacher  to  send  a  scheme  of  the  debate  —  all  the  different 
heads  —  and  he  must  agree  to  keep  rigidly  within  the  scheme. 
There,  sit  down  at  my  desk  and  write  the  letter  now ;  Thomas 
shall  carry  it." 

Philip  sat  down  to  write,  and  the  Eector,  with  his  firm 
ringing  voice,  went  on  at  his  ease,  giving  "  indications  "  to 
his  agitated  curate. 

"  But  you  can  begin  at  once  preparing  a  good,  cogent,  clear 
statement,  and  considering  the  probable  points  of  assault. 
You  can  look  into  Jewel,  Hall,  Hooker,  "Whitgift,  and  the 
rest :  you  '11  find  them  all  here.  My  library  wants  nothing  in 
English  divinity.  Sketch  the  lower  ground  taken  by  Usher 


244  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

and  those  men,  but  bring  all  your  force  to  bear  on  marking 
out  the  true  High-Church  doctrine.  Expose  the  wretched 
cavils  of  the  Nonconformists,  and  the  noisy  futility  that  be- 
longs to  schismatics  generally.  I  will  give  you  a  telling  pas- 
sage from  Burke  on  the  Dissenters,  and  some  good  quotations 
which  I  brought  together  in  two  sermons  of  my  own  on  the 
Position  of  the  English  Church  in  Christendom.  How  long 
do  you  think  it  will  take  you  to  bring  your  thoughts  together  ? 
You  can  throw  them  afterwards  into  the  form  of  an  essay ; 
we  '11  have  the  thing  printed ;  it  will  do  you  good  with  the 
Bishop." 

With  all  Mr.  Sherlock's  timidity,  there  was  fascination  for 
him  in  this  distinction.  He  reflected  that  he  could  take  cof- 
fee and  sit  up  late,  and  perhaps  produce  something  rather  fine. 
It  might  be  a  first  step  towards  that  eminence  which  it  was 
no  more  than  his  duty  to  aspire  to.  Even  a  polemical  fame 
like  that  of  a  Philpotts  must  have  had  a  beginning.  Mr. 
Sherlock  was  not  insensible  to  the  pleasure  of  turning  sen- 
tences successfully,  and  it  was  a  pleasure  not  always  uncon- 
nected with  preferment.  A  diffident  man  likes  the  idea  of 
doing  something  remarkable,  which  will  create  belief  in  him 
without  any  immediate  display  of  brilliancy.  Celebrity  may 
blush  and  be  silent,  and  win  a  grace  the  more.  Thus  Mr. 
Sherlock  was  constrained,  trembling  all  the  while,  and  much 
wishing  that  his  essay  were  already  in  print. 

"  I  think  I  could  hardly  be  ready  under  a  fortnight." 

"  Very  good.  Just  write  that,  Phil,  and  tell  him  to  fix  the 
precise  day  and  place.  And  then  we  '11  go  to  lunch." 

The  Kector  was  quite  satisfied.  He  had  talked  himself  into 
thinking  that  he  should  like  to  give  Sherlock  a  few  useful 
hints,  look  up  his  own  earlier  sermons,  and  benefit  the  Curate 
by  his  criticism,  when  the  argument  had  been  got  into  shape. 
He  was  a  health y-natured  man,  but  that  was  not  at  all  a  rea- 
son why  he  should  not  have  those  sensibilities  to  the  odor  of 
authorship  which  belong  to  almost  everybody  who  is  not  ex- 
pected to  be  a  writer  —  and  especially  to  that  form  of  author- 
ship which  is  called  suggestion,  and  consists  in  telling  another 
man  that  he  might  do  a  great  deal  with  a  given  subject,  by 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  245 

bringing  a  sufficient  amount  of  knowledge,  reasoning,  and  wit 
to  bear  upon  it. 

Philip  would  have  had  some  twinges  of  conscience  about  the 
Curate,  if  he  had  not  guessed  that  the  honor  thrust  upon  him 
was  not  altogether  disagreeable.  The  Church  might  perhaps 
have  had  a  stronger  supporter ;  but  for  himself,  he  had  done 
what  he  was  bound  to  do:  he  had  done  his  best  towards 
fulfilling  Mr.  Lyon's  desire. 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

If  he  come  not,  the  play  is  marred.  —  Midsummer  Night's  Dream. 

RUFUS  LYO^  was  very  happy  on  that  mild  November  morn- 
ing appointed  for  the  great  conference  in  the  larger  room  at 
the  Eree  School,  between  himself  and  the  Rev.  Theodore 
Sherlock,  B.  A.  The  disappointment  of  not  contending  with 
the  Rector  in  person,  which  had  at  first  been  bitter,  had  been 
gradually  lost  sight  of  in  the  positive  enjoyment  of  an  oppor- 
tunity for  debating  on  any  terms.  Mr.  Lyon  had  two  grand 
elements  of  pleasure  on  such  occasions  :  confidence  in.  the 
strength  of  his  case,  and  confidence  in  his  own  power  of  advo- 
cacy. Not  —  to  use  his  own  phrase  —  not  that  he  "  glorified 
himself  herein ; "  for  speech  and  exposition  were  so  easy  to 
him,  that  if  he  argued  forcibly,  he  believed  it  to  be  simply 
because  the  truth  was  forcible.  He  was  not  proud  of  moving 
easily  in  his  native  medium.  A  panting  man  thinks  of  him- 
self as  a  clever  swimmer  ;  but  a  fish  swims  much  better,  and 
takes  his  performance  as  a  matter  of  course. 

Whether  Mr.  Sherlock  were  that  panting,  self-gratulating 
man,  remained  a  secret.  Philip  Debarry,  much  occupied  with 
his  electioneering  affairs,  had  only  once  had  an  opportunity 
of  asking  his  uncle  how  Sherlock  got  on,  and  the  Rector 
had  said,  curtly,  "  I  think  he  '11  do.  I  've  supplied  him  well 


246  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

with  references.  I  advise  him  to  read  only,  and  decline  every- 
thing else  as  out  of  order.  Lyon  will  speak  to  a  point,  and 
then  Sherlock  will  read :  it  will  be  all  the  more  telling.  It 
will  give  variety."  But  9n  this  particular  morning  peremp- 
tory business  connected  with  the  magistracy  called  the  Rector 
'away. 

Due  notice  had  been  given,  and  the  feminine  world  of  Treby 
Magna  was  much  more  agitated  by  the  prospect  than  by  that 
of  any  candidate's  speech.  Mrs.  Pendrell  at  the  Bank,  Mrs. 
Tiliot,  and  the  Church  ladies  generally,  felt  bound  to  hear  the 
Curate,  who  was  known,  apparently  by  an  intuition  concern- 
ing the  nature  of  curates,  to  be  a  very  clever  young  man  ;  and 
he  would  show  them  what  learning  had  to  say  on  the  right 
side.  One  or  two  Dissenting  ladies  were  not  without  emotion 
at  the  thought  that,  seated  on  the  front  benches,  they  should 
be  brought  near  to  old  Church  friends,  and  have  a  longer 
greeting  than  had  taken  place  since  the  Catholic  Emancipa- 
tion. Mrs.  Muscat,  who  had  been  a  beauty,  and  was  as  nice 
in  her  millinery  as  any  Trebian  lady  belonging  to  the  Estab- 
lishment, reflected  that  she  should  put  on  her  best  large  em- 
broidered collar,  and  that  she  should  ask  Mrs.  Tiliot  where  it 
was  in  Duffield  that  she  once  got  her  bed-hangings  dyed  so 
beautifully.  When  Mrs.  Tiliot  was  Mary  Salt,  the  two  ladies 
had  been  bosom  friends  ;  but  Mr.  Tiliot  had  looked  higher 
and  higher  since  his  gin  had  become  so  famous  ;  and  in  the 
year  '29  he  had,  in  Mr.  Muscat's  hearing,  spoken  of  Dissenters 
as  sneaks  —  a  personality  which  could  not  be  overlooked. 

The  debate  was  to  begin  at  eleven,  for  the  Kector  would  not 
allow  the  evening  to  be  chosen,  when  low  men  and  boys  might 
want  to  be  admitted  out  of  mere  mischief.  This  was  one 
reason  why  the  female  part  of  the  audience  outnumbered  the 
males.  But  some  chief  Trebians  were  there,  even  men  whose 
means  made  them  as  independent  of  theory  as  Mr.  Pendrell 
and  Mr.  Wace  ;  encouraged  by  reflecting  that  they  were  not 
in  a  place  of  worship,  and  would  not  be  obliged  to  stay  longer 
than  they  chose.  There  was  a  muster  of  all  Dissenters  who 
could  spare  the  morning  time,  and  on  the  back  benches  were 
all  the  aged  Churchwomen  who  shared  the  remnants  of  the 


FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL.  247 

sacrament  wine,  and  who  were  humbly  anxious  to  neglect 
nothing  ecclesiastical  or  connected  with  "going  to  a  better 
place." 

At  eleven  the  arrival  of  listeners  seemed  to  have  ceased. 
Mr.  Lyon  was  seated  on  the  school  tribune  or  dais  at  his  par- 
ticular round  table ;  another  round  table,  with  a  chair,  awaited 
the  Curate,  with  whose  superior  position  it  was  quite  in  keep- 
ing that  he  should  not  be  first  on  the  ground.  A  couple  of 
extra  chairs  were  placed  farther  back,  and  more  than  one  im- 
portant personage  had  been  requested  to  act  as  chairman  ;  but 
no  Churchman  would  place  himself  in  a  position  so  equivocal 
as  to  dignity  of  aspect,  and  so  unequivocal  as  to  the  obligation 
of  sitting  out  the  discussion ;  and  the  Eector  had  beforehand 
put  a  veto  on  any  Dissenting  chairman. 

Mr.  Lyon  sat  patiently  absorbed  in  his  thoughts,  with  his 
notes  in  minute  handwriting  lying  before  him,  seeming  to 
look  at  the  audience,  but  not  •  seeing  them.  Every  one  else 
was  contented  that  there  should  be  an  interval  in  which  there 
could  be  a  little  neighborly  talk. 

Esther  was  particularly  happy,  seated  on  a  side-bench  near 
her  father's  side  of  the  tribune,  'with  Felix  close  behind  her, 
so  that  she  could  turn  her  head  and  talk  to  him.  He  had 
been  very  kind  ever  since  that  morning  when  she  had  called 
at  his  home,  more  disposed  to  listen  indulgently  to  what  she 
had  to  say,  and  less  blind  to  her  looks  and  movements.  If  he 
had  never  railed  at  her  or  ignored  her,  she  would  have  been 
less  sensitive  to  the  attention  he  gave  her ;  but  as  it  was,  the 
prospect  of  seeing  him  seemed  to  light  up  her  life,  and  to  dis- 
perse the  old  dulness.  She  looked  unusually  charming  to-day, 
from  the  very  fact  that  she  was  not  vividly  conscious  of  any- 
thing but  of  having  a  mind  near  her  that  asked  her  to  be 
something  better  than  she  actually  was.  The  consciousness 
of  her  own  superiority  amongst  the  people  around  her  was 
superseded,  and  even  a  few  brief  weeks  had  given  a  softened 
expression  to  her  eyes,  a  more  feminine  beseechingness  and 
self-doubt  to  her  manners.  Perhaps,  however,  a  little  new 
defiance  was  rising  in  place  of  the  old  contempt  —  defiance  of 
the  Trebian  views  concerning  Felix  Holt. 


248  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

"What  a  very  nice-looking  young  woman  your  minister's 
daughter  is  ! "  said  Mrs.  Tiliot  in  an  undertone  to  Mrs.  Muscat, 
who,  as  she  had  hoped,  had  found  a  seat  next  to  her  quondam 
friend  —  "  quite  the  lady." 

"  Kather  too  much  so,  considering,"  said  Mrs.  Muscat. 
"  She  's  thought  proud,  and  that  }s  not  pretty  in  a  girl,  even 
if  there  was  anything  to  back  it  up.  But  now  she  seems  to 
be  encouraging  that  young  Holt,  who  scoffs  at  everything,  as 
you  may  judge  by  his  appearance.  She  has  despised  his 
betters  before  now  ;  but  I  leave  you  to  judge  whether  a  young 
man  who  has  taken  to  low  ways  of  getting  his  living  can  pay 
for  fine  cambric  handkerchiefs  and  light  kid  gloves." 

Mrs.  Muscat  lowered  her  blond  eyelashes  and  swayed  her 
neat  head  just  perceptibly  from  side  to  side,  with  a  sincere 
desire  to  be  moderate  in  her  expressions,  notwithstanding  any 
shock  that  facts  might  have  given  her. 

"  Dear,  dear,"  said  Mrs.  Tiliot.  "  What !  that  is  young  Holt 
leaning  forward  now  without  a  cravat  ?  I  've  never  seen  him 
before  to  notice  him,  but  I  've  heard  Tiliot  talking  about  him. 
They  say  he  's  a  dangerous  character,  and  goes  stirring  up  the 
working  men  at  Sproxton.  And  —  well,  to  be  sure,  such  great 
eyes  and  such  a  great  head  of  hair  —  it  is  enough  to  frighten 
one.  What  can  she  see  in  him  ?  Quite  below  her." 

"  Yes,  and  brought  up  a  governess,"  said  Mrs.  Muscat ; 
"  you  'd  have  thought  she  'd  know  better  how  to  choose.  But 
the  minister  has  let  her  get  the  upper  hand  sadly  too  much. 
It 's  a  pity  in  a  man  of  God.  I  don't  deny  he  's  that." 

"  Well,  I  am  sorry,"  said  Mrs.  Tiliot,  "  for  I  meant  her  to 
give  my  girls  lessons  when  they  came  from  school." 

Mr.  Wace  and  Mr.  Pendrell  meanwhile  were  standing  up  and 
looking  round  at  the  audience,  nodding  to  their  fellow-towns- 
people with  the  affability  due  from  men  in  their  position. 

"  It 's  time  he  came  now,"  said  Mr.  Wace,  looking  at  his 
watch  and  comparing  it  with  the  schoolroom  clock.  "  This 
debating  is  a  newfangled  sort  of  thing ;  but  the  Rector  would 
never  have  given  in  to  it  if  there  had  n't  been  good  reasons. 
Nolan  said  he  would  n't  come.  He  says  this  debating  is  an 
atheistical  sort  of  thing ;  the  Atheists  are  very  fond  of  it. 


FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL.  249 

Theirs  is  a  bad  book  to  take  a  leaf  out  of.  However,  we 
shall  hear  nothing  but  what 's  good  from  Mr.  Sherlock.  He 
preaches  a  capital  sermon  —  for  such  a  young  man." 

"  Well,  it  was  our  duty  to  support  him  —  not  to  leave  him 
alone  among  the  Dissenters,"  said  Mr.  Pendrell.  "  You  see, 
everybody  has  n't  felt  that.  Labron  might  have  shown  him- 
self, if  not  Lukyn.  I  could  have  alleged  business  myself  if  I 
had  thought  proper." 

"  Here  he  comes,  I  think,"  said  Mr.  Wace,  turning  round  on 
hearing  a  movement  near  the  small  door  on  a  level  with  the 
platform.  "  By  George  !  it 's  Mr.  Debarry.  Come  now,  this 
is  handsome." 

Mr.  Wace  and  Mr.  Pendrell  clapped  their  hands,  and  the 
example  was  followed  even  by  most  of  the  Dissenters.  Philip 
was  aware  that  he  was  doing  a  popular  thing,  of  a  kind  that 
Treby  was  not  used  to  from  the  elder  Debarrys  ;  but  his 
appearance  had  not  been  long  premeditated.  He  was  driving 
through  the  town  towards  an  engagement  at  some  distance, 
but  on  calling  at  Labron's  office  he  had  found  that  the  affair 
which  demanded  his  presence  had  been  deferred,  and  so  had 
driven  round  to  the  Free  School.  Christian  came  in  behind 
him. 

Mr.  Lyon  was  now  roused  from  his  abstraction,  and,  step- 
ping from  his  slight  elevation,  begged  Mr.  Debarry  to  act  as 
moderator  or  president  on  the  occasion. 

"  With  all  my  heart,"  said  Philip.  "  But  Mr.  Sherlock  has 
not  arrived,  apparently  ?  " 

"He  tarries  somewhat  unduly,"  said  Mr.  Lyon.  "Never- 
theless there  may  be  a  reason  of  which  we  know  not.  Shall 
I  collect  the  thoughts  of  the  assembly  by  a  brief  introductory 
address  in  the  interval  ?  " 

"  No,  no,  no,"  said  Mr.  Wace,  who  saw  a  limit  to  his  powers 
of  endurance.  "  Mr.  Sherlock  is  sure  to  be  here  in  a  minute 
or  two." 

"  Christian,"  said  Philip  Debarry,  who  felt  a  slight  misgiv- 
ing, "just  be  so  good  —  but  stay,  I'll  go  myself.  Excuse  me, 
gentlemen  :  I  '11  drive  round  to  Mr.  Sherlock's  lodgings.  He 
may  be  under  a  little  mistake  as  to  the  time.  Studious  men 


250  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL. 

are  sometimes  rather  absent.  You  need  n't  come  with  me, 
Christian." 

As  Mr.  Debarry  went  out,  Eufus  Lyon  stepped  on  to  the 
tribune  again  in  rather  an  uneasy  state  of  mind.  A  few  ideas 
had  occurred  to  him,  eminently  fitted  to  engage  the  audience 
profitably,  and  so  to  wrest  some  edification  out  of  an  unforeseen 
delay.  But  his  native  delicacy  made  him  feel  that  in  this  as- 
sembly the  Church  people  might  fairly  decline  any  "  deliver- 
ance "  on  his  part  which  exceeded  the  programme,  and  Mr. 
"VVace's  negative  had  been  energetic.  But  the  little  man  suf- 
fered from  imprisoned  ideas,  and  was  as  restless  as  a  racer 
held  in.  He  could  not  sit  down  again,  but  walked  backwards 
and  forwards,  stroking  his  chin,  emitting  his  low  guttural  in- 
terjection under  the  pressure  of  clauses  and  sentences  which 
he  longed  to  utter  aloud,  as  he  would  have  done  in  his  own 
study.  There  was  a  low  buzz  in  the  room  which  helped  to 
deepen  the  minister's  sense  that  the  thoughts  within  him  were 
as  divine  messengers  unheeded  or  rejected  by  a  trivial  genera- 
tion. Many  of  the  audience  were  standing ;  all,  except  the 
old  Churchwomen  on  the  back  seats,  and  a  few  devout  Dis- 
senters who  kept  their  eyes  shut  and  gave  their  bodies  a  gentle 
oscillating  motion,  were  interested  in  chat. 

"  Your  father  is  uneasy,"  said  Felix  to  Esther. 

"  Yes ;  and  now,  I  think,  he  is  feeling  for  his  spectacles. 
I  hope  he  has  not  left  them  at  home :  he  will  not  be  able  to 
see  anything  two  yards  before  him  without  them ;  —  and  it 
makes  him  so  unconscious  of  what  people  expect  or  want." 

"  I  '11  go  and  ask  him  whether  he  has  them,"  said  Felix, 
striding  over  the  form  in  front  of  him,  and  approaching  Mr. 
Lyon,  whose  face  showed  a  gleam  of  pleasure  at  this  relief 
from  his  abstracted  isolation. 

"  Miss  Lyon  is  afraid  that  you  are  at  a  loss  for  your  specta- 
cles, sir,"  said  Felix. 

"  My  dear  young  friend,"  said  Mr.  Lyon,  laying  his  hand  on 
Felix  Holt's  fore-arm,  which  was  about  on  a  level  with  the 
minister's  shoulder,  "  it  is  a  very  glorious  truth,  albeit  made 
somewhat  painful  to  me  by  the  circumstances  of  the  present 
moment,  that  as  a  counterpoise  to  the  brevity  of  our  mortal 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  KADICAL.  251 

life  (wherein,  as  I  apprehend,  our  powers  are  being  trained 
not  only  for  the  transmission  of  an  improved  heritage,  as  I 
have  heard  you  insist,  but  also  for  our  own  entrance  into  a 
higher  initiation  in  the  Divine  scheme)  —  it  is,  I  say,  a  very 
glorious  truth,  that  even  in  what  are  called  the  waste  minutes 
of  our  time,  like  those  of  expectation,  the  soul  may  soar  and 
range,  as  in  some  of  our  dreams  which  are  brief  as  a  broken 
rainbow  in  duration,  yet  seem  to  comprise  a  long  history  of 
terror  or  of  joy.  And  again,  each  moment  may  be  a  beginning 
of  a  new  spiritual  energy ;  and  our  pulse  would  doubtless  be 
a  coarse  and  clumsy  notation  of  the  passage  from  that  which 
was  not  to  that  which  is,  even  in  the  finer  processes  of  the 
material  world  —  and  how  much  more  —  " 

Esther  was  watching  her  father  and  Felix,  and  though  she 
was  not  within  hearing  of  what  was  being  said,  she  guessed 
the  actual  state  of  the  case  —  that  the  inquiry  about  the  specta- 
cles had  been  unheeded,  and  that  her  father  was  losing  him- 
self and  embarrassing  Felix  in  the  intricacies  of  a  dissertation. 
There  was  not  the  stillness  around  her  that  would  have  made 
a  movement  on  her  part  seem  conspicuous,  and  she  was  im- 
pelled by  her  anxiety  to  step  on  the  tribune  and  walk  up  to 
her  father,  who  paused,  a  little  startled. 

"Pray  see  whether  you  have  forgotten  your  spectacles, 
father.  If  so,  I  will  go  home  at  once  and  look  for  them." 

Mr.  Lyon  was  automatically  obedient  to  Esther,  and  he 
began  immediately  to  feel  in  his  pockets. 

"  How  is  it  that  Miss  Jermyn  is  so  friendly  with  the  Dis- 
senting parson  ?  "  said  Christian  to  Quorlen,  the  Tory  printer, 
who  was  an  intimate  of  his.  "  Those  grand  Jermyns  are  not 
Dissenters  surely  ?" 

"  What  Miss  Jermyn  ?  " 

"Why  —  don't  you  see  ?  —  that  fine  girl  who  is  talking  to 
him." 

"  Miss  Jermyn  !     Why,  that's  the  little  parson's  daughter." 

"  His  daughter ! "  Christian  gave  a  low  brief  whistle,  which 
seemed  a  natural  expression  of  surprise  that  "the  rusty 
old  ranter"  should  have  a  daughter  of  such  distinguished 
appearance. 


252  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

Meanwhile  the  search  for  the  spectacles  had  proved 
vain.  "  'T  is  a  grievous  fault  in  me,  my  dear,"  said  the 
little  man,  humbly ;  "  I  become  thereby  sadly  burtheusome 
to  you." 

"  I  will  go  at  once,"  said  Esther,  refusing  to  let  Felix  go  in- 
stead of  her.  But  she  had  scarcely  stepped  off  the  tribune 
when  Mr.  Debarry  re-entered,  and  there  was  a  commotion  which, 
made  her  wait.  After  a  low-toned  conversation  with  Mr.  Pen* 
drell  and  Mr.  Wace,  Philip  Debarry  stepped  on  to  the  tribune 
with  his  hat  in  his  hand,  and  said,  with  an  air  of  much  con- 
cern and  annoyance  — 

"I  am  sorry  to  have  to  tell  you,  ladies  and  gentlemen,  that 
—  doubtless  owing  to  some  accidental  cause  which  I  trust  will 
soon  be  explained  as  nothing  serious  —  Mr.  Sherlock  is  absent 
from  his  residence,  and  is  not  to  be  found.  He  went  out  early, 
his  landlady  informs  me,  to  refresh  himself  by  a  walk  on  this 
agreeable  morning,  as  is  his  habit,  she  tells  me,  when  he  has 
been  kept  up  late  by  study ;  and  he  has  not  returned.  Do  not 
let  us  be  too  anxious.  I  shall  cause  inquiry  to  be  made  in  the 
direction  of  his  walk.  It  is  easy  to  imagine  many  accidents, 
not  of  a  grave  character,  by  which  he  might  nevertheless  be 
absolutely  detained  against  his  will.  Under  these  circum- 
stances, Mr.  Lyon,"  continued  Philip,  turning  to  the  minister, 
"  I  presume  that  the  debate  must  be  adjourned." 

"  The  debate,  doubtless,"  began  Mr.  Lyon ;  but  his  further 
speech  was  drowned  by  a  general  rising  of  the  Church  peo- 
ple from  their  seats,  many  of  them  feeling  that,  even  if  the 
cause  were  lamentable,  the  adjournment  was  not  altogether 
disagreeable. 

"  Good  gracious  me  ! "  said  Mrs.  Tiliot,  as  she  took  her  hus- 
band's arm,  "  I  hope  the  poor  young  man  has  n't  fallen  into  the 
river  or  broken  his  leg." 

But  some  of  the  more  acrid  Dissenters,  whose  temper  was 
not  controlled  by  the  habits  of  retail  business,  had  begun  to 
hiss,  implying  that  in  their  interpretation  the  Curate's  absence 
had  not  depended  on  any  injury  to  life  or  limb. 

"He's  turned  tail,  sure  enough,"  said  Mr.  Muscat  to  the 
neighbor  behind  him,  lifting  his  eyebrows  and  shoulders,  and 


FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL.  253 

laughing  in  a  way  that  showed  that,  deacon  as  he  was,  he 
looked  at  the  affair  in  an  entirely  secular  light. 

But  Mrs.  Muscat  thought  it  would  be  nothing  but  right  to 
have  all  the  waters  dragged,  agreeing  in  this  with  the  majority 
of  the  Church  ladies. 

"  I  regret  sincerely,  Mr.  Lyon,"  said  Philip  Debarry,  address- 
ing the  minister  with  politeness,  "  that  I  must  say  good  morn- 
ing to  you,  with  the  sense  that  I  have  not  been  able  at  present 
to  contribute  to  your  satisfaction  as  I  had  wished." 

"  Speak  not  of  it  in  the  way  of  apology,  sir,"  said  Mr.  Lyon, 
in  a  tone  of  depression.  "  I  doubt  not  that  you  yourself  have 
acted  in  good  faith.  Nor  will  I  open  any  door  of  egress  to 
constructions  such  as  anger  often  deems  ingenious,  but  which 
the  disclosure  of  the  simple  truth  may  expose  as  erroneous  and 
uncharitable  fabrications.  I  wish  you  good  morning,  sir." 

When  the  room  was  cleared  of  the  Church  people,  Mr.  Lyon 
wished  to  soothe  his  own  spirit  and  that  of  his  flock  by  a  few 
reflections  introductory  to  a  parting  prayer.  But  there  was  a 
general  resistance  to  this  effort.  The  men  mustered  round  the 
minister,  and  declared  their  opinion  that  the  whole  thing  was 
disgraceful  to  the  Church.  Some  said  the  Curate's  absence 
had  been  contrived  from  the  first.  Others  more  than  hinted 
that  it  had  been  a  folly  in  Mr.  Lyon  to  set  on  foot  any  pro- 
cedure in  common  with  Tories  and  clergymen,  who,  if  they 
ever  aped  civility  to  Dissenters,  would  never  do  anything  but 
laugh  at  them  in  their  sleeves.  Brother  Kemp  urged  in  his 
heavy  bass  that  Mr.  Lyon  should  lose  no  time  in  sending  an 
account  of  the  affair  to  the  '  Patriot ; '  and  Brother  Hawkins, 
in  his  high  tenor,  observed  that  it  was  an  occasion  on  which 
some  stinging  things  might  be  said  with  all  the  extra  effect  of 
an  apropos. 

The  position  of  receiving  a  many-voiced  lecture  from  the 
members  of  his  church  was  familiar  to  Mr.  Lyon ;  but  now 
he  felt  weary,  frustrated,  and  doubtful  of  his  own  temper. 
Felix,  who  stood  by  and  saw  that  this  man  of  sensitive  fibre 
was  suffering  from  talkers  whose  noisy  superficiality  cost  them 
nothing,  got  exasperated.  "  It  seems  to  me,  sirs,"  he  burst  in, 
with  his  predominant  voice,  "  that  Mr.  Lyon  has  hitherto  had 


254  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL. 

the  hard  part  of  the  business,  while  you  of  his  congregation 
have  had  the  easy  one.  Punish  the  Church  clergy,  if  you  like 
—  they  can  take  care  of  themselves.  But  don't  punish  your 
own  minister.  It 's  no  business  of  mine,  perhaps,  except  so 
far  as  fair-play  is  everybody's  business;  but  it  seems  to  me 
the  time  to  ask  Mr.  Lyon  to  take  a  little  rest,  instead  of 
setting  on  him  like  so  many  wasps." 

By  this  speech  Felix  raised  a  displeasure  which  fell  on  the 
minister  as  well  as  on  himself ;  but  he  gained  his  immediate 
end.  The  talkers  dropped  off  after  a  slight  show  of  persist- 
ence, and  Mr.  Lyon  quitted  the  field  of  no  combat  with  a  small 
group  of  his  less  imperious  friends,  to  whom  he  confided  his 
intention  of  committing  his  argument  fully  to  paper,  and  for- 
warding it  to  a  discriminating  editor. 

"But  regarding  personalities,"  he  added,  "I  have  not  the 
same  clear  showing.  For,  say  that  this  young  man  was  pusil- 
lanimous —  I  were  but  ill  provided  with  arguments  if  I  took 
my  stand  even  for  a  moment  on  so  poor  an  irrelevancy  as  that 
because  one  curate  is  ill  furnished  therefore  Episcopacy  is 
false.  If  I  held  up  any  one  to  just  obloquy,  it  would  be  the 
well-designated  Incumbent  of  this  parish,  who,  calling  himself 
one  of  the  Church  militant,  sends  a  young  and  weak-kneed 
substitute  to  take  his  place  in  the  fight." 

Mr.  Philip  Debarry  did  not  neglect  to  make  industrious 
inquiry  concerning  the  accidents  which  had  detained  the  Rev. 
Theodore  Sherlock  on  his  morning  walk.  That  well-inten- 
tioned young  divine  was  seen  no  more  in  Treby  Magna.  But 
the  river  was  not  dragged,  for  by  the  evening  coach  the  Eector 
received  an  explanatory  letter.  The  Eev.  Theodore's  agitation 
had  increased  so  much  during  his  walk,  that  the  passing  coach 
had  been  a  means  of  deliverance  not  to  be  resisted ;  and,  liter- 
ally at  the  eleventh  hour,  he  had  hailed  and  mounted  the 
cheerful  Tally-ho  !  and  carried  away  his  portion  of  the  debate 
in  his  pocket. 

But  the  Rector  had  subsequently  the  satisfaction  of  receiv- 
ing Mr.  Sherlock's  painstaking  production  in  print,  with  a 
dedication  to  the  Rev.  Augustus  Debarry,  a  motto  from  St. 
Chrysostom,  and  other  additions,  the  fruit  of  ripening  leisure. 


FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL.  255 

He  was  "  sorry  for  poor  Sherlock,  who  wanted  confidence ; " 
but  he  was  convinced  that  for  his  own  part  he  had  taken  the 
course  which  under  the  circumstances  was  the  least  compro- 
mising to  the  Church.  Sir  Maxiuius,  however,  observed  to  his 
son  and  brother  that  he  had  been  right  and  they  had  been 
wrong  as  to  the  danger  of  vague,  enormous  expressions  of 
gratitude  to  a  Dissenting  preacher,  and  on  any  differences  of 
opinion  seldom  failed  to  remind  them  of  that  precedent. 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

Your  fellow-man  1  —  Divide  the  epithet : 
Say  rather,  you  're  the  fellow,  he  the  man. 

WHEN  Christian  quitted  the  Free  School  with  the  discovery 
that  the  young  lady  whose  appearance  had  first  startled  him 
with  an  indefinable  impression  in  the  market-place  was  the 
daughter  of  the  old  Dissenting  preacher  who  had  shown  so 
much  agitated  curiosity  about  his  name,  he  felt  very  much 
like  an  uninitiated  chess-player  who  sees  that  the  pieces  are  in 
a  peculiar  position  on  the  board,  and  might  open  the  way  for 
him  to  give  checkmate,  if  he  only  knew  how.  Ever  since  his 
interview  with  Jerrnyn,  his  mind  had  been  occupied  with  the 
charade  it  offered  to  his  ingenuity.  What  was  the  real  mean- 
ing of  the  lawyer's  interest  in  him,  and  in  his  relations  with 
Maurice  Christian  Bycliffe  ?  Here  was  a  secret ;  and  secrets 
were  often  a  source  of  profit,  of  that  agreeable  kind  which 
involved  little  labor.  Jermyn  had  hinted  at  profit  which 
might  possibly  come  through  him  ;  but  Christian  said  in- 
wardly, with  well-satisfied  self-esteem,  that  he  was  not  so  piti- 
able a  nincompoop  as  to  trust  Jermyn.  On  the  contrary,  the 
only  problem  before  him  was  to  find  out  by  what  combination 
of  independent  knowledge  he  could  outwit  Jermyn,  elude  any 
purchase  the  attorney  had  on  him  through  his  past  history, 


256  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

and  get  a  handsome  bonus,  by  which  a  somewhat  shattered 
man  of  pleasure  might  live  well  without  a  master.  Christian, 
having  early  exhausted  the  more  impulsive  delights  of  life, 
had  become  a  sober  calculator  ;  and  he  had  made  up  his  mind 
that,  for  a  man  who  had  long  ago  run  through  his  own  money, 
servitude  in  a  great  family  was  the  best  kind  of  retirement 
after  that  of  a  pensioner;  but  if  a  better  chance  offered,  a 
person  of  talent  must  not  let  it  slip  through  his  fingers.  He 
held  various  ends  of  threads,  but  there  was  danger  in  pulling 
at  them  too  impatiently.  He  had  not  forgotten  the  surprise 
which  had  made  him  drop  the  punch-ladle,  when  Mr.  Crowder, 
talking  in  the  steward's  room,  had  said  that  a  scamp  named 
Henry  Scaddon  had  been  concerned  in  a  lawsuit  about  the 
Transome  estate.  Again,  Jermyn  was  the  family  lawyer  of 
the  Transomes ;  he  knew  about  the  exchange  of  names  be- 
tween Scaddon  and  Bycliffe ;  he  clearly  wanted  to  know  as 
much  as  he  could  about  Bycliffe's  history.  The  conclusion 
was  not  remote  that  Bycliffe  had  had  some  claim  on  the  Tran- 
some property,  and  that  a  difficulty  had  arisen  from  his  being 
confounded  with  Henry  Scaddon.  But  hitherto  the  other 
incident  which  had  been  apparently  connected  with  the  inter- 
change of  names  —  Mr.  Lyon's  demand  that  he  should  write 
down  the  name  Maurice  Christian,  accompanied  with  the  ques- 
tion whether  that  were  his  whole  name  —  had  had  no  visi- 
ble link  with  the  inferences  arrived  at  through  Crowder  and 
Jermyn. 

The  discovery  made  this  morning  at  the  Free  School  that 
Esther  was  the  daughter  of  the  Dissenting  preacher  at  last 
suggested  a  possible  link.  Until  then,  Christian  had  not 
known  why  Esther's  face  had  impressed  him  so  peculiarly ; 
but  the  minister's  chief  association  for  him  was  with  By- 
cliffe, and  that  association  served  as  a  flash  to  show  him. 
that  Esther's  features  and  expression,  and  still  more  her 
bearing,  now  she  stood  and  walked,  revived  Bycliffe's  image. 
Daughter  ?  There  were  various  ways  of  being  a  daughter. 
Suppose  this  were  a  case  of  adoption :  suppose  Bycliffe  were 
known  to  be  dead,  or  thought  to  be  dead.  "Begad,  if  the  old 
parson  had  fancied  the  original  father  was  come  to  life  again, 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  257 

it  was  enough  to  frighten  him  a  little.  Slow  and  steady," 
Christian  said  to  himself;  "I'll  get  some  talk  with  the  old 
man  again.  He 's  safe  enough  :  one  can  handle  him  without 
cutting  one's  self.  I  '11  tell  him  I  knew  Bycliffe,  and  was  his 
fellow-prisoner.  I  '11  worm  out  the  truth  about  this  daughter. 
Could  pretty  Annette  have  married  again,  and  married  this  little 
scarecrow  ?  There  's  no  knowing  what  a  woman  will  not  do." 

Christian  could  see  no  distinct  result  for  himself  from  his 
industry  :  but  if  there  were  to  be  any  such  result,  it  must  be 
reached  by  following  out  every  clew ;  and  to  the  non-legal 
mind  there  are  dim  possibilities  in  law  and  heirship  which 
prevent  any  issue  from  seeming  too  miraculous. 

The  consequence  of  these  meditations  was,  that  Christian 
hung  about  Treby  more  than  usual  in  his  leisure  time,  and 
that  on  the  first  opportunity  he  accosted  Mr.  Lyon  in  the 
street  with  suitable  civility,  stating  that  since  the  occasion 
which  had  brought  them  together  some  weeks  before  he  had 
often  wished  to  renew  their  conversation,  and,  with  Mr.  Lyon's 
permission,  would  now  ask  to  do  so.  After  being  assured,  as 
he  had  been  by  Jerrnyn,  that  this  courier,  who  had  happened 
by  some  accident  to  possess  the  memorable  locket  and  pocket- 
book,  was  certainly  not  Annette's  husband,  and  was  ignorant 
whether  Maurice  Christian  Bycliffe  were  living  or  dead,  the 
minister's  mind  had  become  easy  again ;  his  habitual  lack  of 
interest  in  personal  details  rendering  him  gradually  oblivious 
of  Jermyn's  precautionary  statement  that  he  was  pursuing  in- 
quiries, and  that  if  anything  of  interest  turned  up,  Mr.  Lyon 
should  be  made  acquainted  with  it.  Hence,  when  Christian 
addressed  him,  the  minister,  taken  by  surprise  and  shaken  by 
the  recollections  of  former  anxieties,  said,  helplessly  — 

"  If  it  is  business,  sir,  you  would  perhaps  do  better  to  address 
yourself  to  Mr.  Jermyn." 

He  could  not  have  said  anything  that  was  a  more  valuable 
hint  to  Christian.  He  inferred  that  the  minister  had  made  a 
confidant  of  Jermyn,  and  it  was  needful  to  be  Avary. 

"  On  the  contrary,  sir,"  lie  answered,  "  it  may  be  of  the  ut- 
most importance  to  you  that  what  passes  between  us  should 
not  be  known  to  Mr.  Jermyn." 


258  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  KADICAL. 

Mr.  Lyon  was  perplexed,  and  felt  at  once  that  he  was  no 
more  in  clear  daylight  concerning  Jermyn  than  concerning 
Christian.  He  dared  not  neglect  the  possible  duty  of  hearing 
what  this  man  had  to  say,  and  he  invited  him  to  proceed  to 
Malthouse  Yard,  where  they  could  converse  in  private. 

Once  in  Mr.  Lyon's  study,  Christian  opened  the  dialogue  by 
saying  that  since  he  was  in  this  room  before  it  had  occurred 
to  him  that  the  anxiety  he  had  observed  in  Mr.  Lyon  might 
be  owing  to  some  acquaintance  with  Maurice  Christian  Bycliffe 
—  a  fellow-prisoner  in  France,  whom  he,  Christian,  had  assisted 
in  getting  freed  from  his  imprisonment,  and  who,  in  fact,  had 
been  the  owner  of  the  trifles  which  Mr.  Lyon  had  recently  had 
in  his  possession  and  had  restored.  Christian  hastened  to  say 
that  he  knew  nothing  of  Bycliffe's  history  since  they  had 
parted  in  France,  but  that  he  knew  of  his  marriage  with 
Annette  Ledru,  and  had  been  acquainted  with  Annette  herself. 
He  would  be  very  glad  to  know  what  became  of  Bycliffe,  if  he 
could,  for  he  liked  him  uncommonly. 

Here  Christian  paused ;  but  Mr.  Lyon  only  sat  changing 
color  and  trembling.  This  man's  bearing  and  tone  of  mind 
were  made  repulsive  to  him  by  being  brought  in  contact  with 
keenly  felt  memories,  and  he  could  not  readily  summon  the 
courage  to  give  answers  or  ask  questions. 

"  May  I  ask  if  you  knew  my  friend  Bycliffe  ?  "  said  Chris- 
tian, trying  a  more  direct  method. 

"  !N"o,  sir  ;  I  never  saw  him." 

"  Ah  I  well  —  you  have  seen  a  very  striking  likeness  of  him. 
It 's  wonderful  —  unaccountable  ;  but  when  I  saw  Miss  Lyon 
at  the  Free  School  the  other  day,  I  could  have  sworn  she  was 
Bycliffe's  daughter." 

"  Sir  !  "  said  Mr.  Lyon,  in  his  deepest  tone,  half  rising,  and 
holding  by  the  arms  of  his  chair,  "  these  subjects  touch  me 
with  too  sharp  a  point  for  you  to  be  justified  in  thrusting  them 
on  me  out  of  mere  levity.  Is  there  any  good  you  seek  or  any 
injury  you  fear  in  relation  to  them  ?  " 

"  Precisely,  sir.  We  shall  come  now  to  an  understanding. 
Suppose  I  believed  that  the  young  lady  who  goes  by  the  name 
of  Miss  Lyon  was  the  daughter  of  Bycliffe  ?  " 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  259 

Mr.  Lyon  moved  his  lips  silently. 

"  And  suppose  I  had  reason  to  suspect  that  there  would  be 
some  great  advantage  for  her  if  the  law  knew  who  was  her 
father  ?  " 

"  Sir  ! "  said  Mr.  Lyon,  shaken  out  of  all  reticence,  "  I  would 
not  conceal  it.  She  believes  herself  to  be  my  daughter.  But 
I  will  bear  all  things  rather  than  deprive  her  of  a  right. 
Nevertheless  I  appeal  to  the  pity  of  any  fellow-man,  not  to 
thrust  himself  between  her  and  me,  but  to  let  me  disclose  the 
truth  to  her  myself." 

"  All  in  good  time,"  said  Christian.  "  We  must  do  nothing 
rash.  Then  Miss  Lyon  is  Annette's  child  ?  " 

The  minister  shivered  as  if  the  edge  of  a  knife  had  been 
drawn  across  his  hand.  But  the  tone  of  this  question,  by  the 
very  fact  that  it  intensified  his  antipathy  to  Christian,  enabled 
him  to  collect  himself  for  what  must  be  simply  the  endurance 
of  a  painful  operation.  After  a  moment  or  two  he  said  more 
coolly,  "  It  is  true,  sir.  Her  mother  became  my  wife.  Proceed 
with  any  statement  which  may  concern  my  duty." 

"  I  have  no  more  to  say  than  this  :  If  there  's  a  prize  that 
the  law  might  hand  over  to  Bycliffe's  daughter,  I  am  much 
mistaken  if  there  is  n't  a  lawyer  who  '11  take  precious  good 
care  to  keep  the  law  hoodwinked.  And  that  lawyer  is  Mat 
Jermyn.  Why,  my  good  sir,  if  you  've  been  taking  Jermyn 
into  your  confidence,  you  've  been  setting  the  fox  to  keep  off 
the  weasel.  It  strikes  me  that  when  you  were  made  a  little 
anxious  about  those  articles  of  poor  Bycliffe's,  you  put  Jermyn 
on  making  inquiries  of  me.  Eh  ?  I  think  I  am  right  ?  " 

"  I  do  not  deny  it." 

"  Ah !  —  it  was  very  well  you  did,  for  by  that  means  I  've 
found  out  that  he  's  got  hold  of  some  secrets  about  Bycliffe 
which  he  means  to  stifle.  Now,  sir,  if  you  desire  any  justice 
for  your  daughter  —  step-daughter,  I  should  say  —  don't  so 
much  as  wink  to  yourself  before  Jermyn ;  and  if  you  've  got 
any  papers  or  things  of  that  sort  that  may  come  in  evidence, 
as  these  confounded  rascals  the  lawyers  call  it,  clutch  them 
tight,  for  if  they  get  into  Jermyn's  hands  they  may  soon  fly 
up  the  chimney.  Have  I  said  enough  ?  " 


260  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL. 

"I  had  not  purposed  any  further  communication  with  Mr. 
Jermyn,  sir ;  indeed,  I  have  nothing  further  to  communicate. 
Except  that  one  fact  concerning  my  daughter's  birth,  which  I 
have  erred  in  concealing  from  her,  I  neither  seek  disclosures 
nor  do  I  tremble  before  them." 

"  Then  I  have  your  word  that  you  will  be  silent  about  this 
conversation  between  us  ?  It  is  for  your  daughter's  interest, 
mind." 

"Sir,  I  shall  be  silent,"  said  Mr.  Lyon,  with  cold  gravity. 
"  Unless,"  he  added,  with  an  acumen  as  to  possibilities  rather 
disturbing  to  Christian's  confident  contempt  for  the  old  man 
—  "  unless  I  were  called  upon  by  some  tribunal  to  declare  the 
whole  truth  in  this  relation ;  in  which  case  I  should  submit 
myself  to  that  authority  of  investigation  which  is  a  requisite 
of  social  order." 

Christian  departed,  feeling  satisfied  that  he  had  got  the  ut» 
most  to  be  obtained  at  present  out  of  the  Dissenting  preacher, 
whom  he  had  not  dared  to  question  more  closely.  He  must 
look  out  for  chance  lights,  and  perhaps,  too,  he  might  catch  a 
stray  hint  by  stirring  the  sediment  of  Mr.  Crowder's  memory. 
But  he  must  not  venture  on  inquiries  that  might  be  noticed. 
He  was  in  awe  of  Jermyn. 

When  Mr.  Lyon  was  alone  he  paced  up  and  down  among 
his  books,  and  thought  aloud,  in  order  to  relieve  himself  after 
the  constraint  of  this  interview.  "  I  will  not  wait  for  the 
urgency  of  necessity,"  he  said,  more  than  once.  "I  will  tell 
the  child  without  compulsion.  And  then  I  shall  fear  nothing. 
And  an  unwonted  spirit  of  tenderness  has  filled  her  of  late. 
She  will  forgive  me." 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  261 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

Consideration  like  an  angel  came 

And  whipped  the  offending  Adam  out  of  her  ; 

Leaving  her  body  as  a  paradise 

To  envelop  and  contain  celestial  spirits. 

SHAKESPEARE  :  Henry  V. 

THE  next  morning,  after  much  prayer  for  the  needful 
strength  and  wisdom,  Mr.  Lyon  came  down-stairs  with  the 
resolution  that  another  day  should  not  pass  without  the  fulfil- 
ment of  the  task  he  had  laid  on  himself ;  but  what  hour  he 
should  choose  for  his  solemn  disclosure  to  Esther,  must  depend 
on  their  mutual  occupations.  Perhaps  he  must  defer  it  till 
they  sat  up  alone  together,  after  Lyddy  was  gone  to  bed.  But 
at  breakfast  Esther  said  — 

"To-day  is  a  holiday,  father.  My  pupils  are  all  going  to 
Duffield  to  see  the  wild  beasts.  What  have  you  got  to  do 
to-day  ?  Come,  you  are  eating  no  breakfast.  Oh,  Lyddy, 
Lyddy,  the  eggs  are  hard  again.  I  wish  you  would  not  read 
Alley ne's  l  Alarm '  before  breakfast ;  it  makes  you  cry  and 
forget  the  eggs." 

"  They  are  hard,  and  that 's  the  truth ;  but  there  's  hearts  as 
are  harder,  Miss  Esther,"  said  Lyddy. 

"  I  think  not,"  said  Esther.  "  This  is  leathery  enough  for 
the  heart  of  the  most  obdurate  Jew.  Pray  give  it  little 
Zachary  for  a  football." 

"  Dear,  dear,  don't  you  be  so  light,  miss.  We  may  all  be 
dead  before  night." 

"You  speak  out  of  season,  my  good  Lyddy,"  said  Mr.  Lyon, 
wearily ;  "  depart  into  the  kitchen." 

"  What  have  you  got  to  do  to-day,  father  ? "  persisted 
Esther.  "I  have  a  holiday." 

Mr.  Lyon  felt  as  if  this  were  a  fresh  summons  not  to  delay. 
"  I  have  something  of  great  moment  to  do,  my  dear ;  and  since 


262  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL. 

you  are  not  otherwise  demanded,  I  will  ask  you  to  come  and 
sit  with  me  up-stairs." 

Esther  wondered  what  there  could  be  on  her  father's  mind 
more  pressing  than  his  morning  studies. 

She  soon  knew.  Motionless,  but  mentally  stirred  as  she 
had  never  been  before,  Esther  listened  to  her  mother's  story, 
and  to  the  outpouring  of  her  step-father's  long-pent-up  ex- 
perience. The  rays  of  the  morning  sun  which  fell  athwart 
the  books,  the  sense  of  the  beginning  day,  had  deepened  the 
solemnity  more  than  night  would  have  done.  All  knowledge 
which  alters  our  lives  penetrates  us  more  when  it  comes  in  the 
early  morning  :  the  day  that  has  to  be  travelled  with  something 
new  and  perhaps  forever  sad  in  its  light,  is  an  image  of  the  life 
that  spreads  beyond.  But  at  night  the  time  of  rest  is  near. 

Mr.  Lyon  regarded  his  narrative  as  a  confession  —  as  a 
revelation  to  this  beloved  child  of  his  own  miserable  weak- 
ness and  error.  But  to  her  it  seemed  a  revelation  of  another 
sort :  her  mind  seemed  suddenly  enlarged  by  a  vision  of  pas- 
sion and  struggle,  of  delight  and  renunciation,  in  the  lot  of 
beings  who  had  hitherto  been  a  dull  enigma  to  her.  And  in 
the  act  of  unfolding  to  her  that  he  was  not  her  real  father,  but 
had  only  striven  to  cherish  her  as  a  father,  had  only  longed  to 
be  loved  as  a  father,  the  odd,  wayworn,  unworldly  man  became 
the  object  of  a  new  sympathy  in  which  Esther  felt  herself 
exalted.  Perhaps  this  knowledge  would  have  been  less  power- 
ful within  her,  but  for  the  mental  preparation  that  had  come 
during  the  last  two  months  from  her  acquaintance  with  Felix 
Holt,  which  had  taught  her  to  doubt  the  infallibility  of  her 
own  standard,  and  raised  a  presentiment  of  moral  depths  that 
were  hidden  from  her. 

Esther  had  taken  her  place  opposite  to  her  father,  and  had 
not  moved  even  her  clasped  hands  while  he  was  speaking. 
But  after  the  long  outpouring  in  which  he  seemed  to  lose  the 
sense  of  everything  but  the  memories  he  was  giving  utterance 
to,  he  paused  a  little  while  and  then  said  timidly  — 

"  This  is  a  late  retrieval  of  a  long  error,  Esther.  I  make 
not  excuses  for  myself,  for  we  ought  to  strive  that  our  affec- 
tions be  rooted  in  the  truth.  Nevertheless  you  —  " 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  263 

Esther  had  risen,  and  had  glided  on  to  the  wooden  stool  on 
a  level  with  her  father's  chair,  where  he  was  accustomed  to 
lay  books.  She  wanted  to  speak,  but  the  floodgates  could  not 
be  opened  for  words  alone.  She  threw  her  arms  round  the 
old  man's  neck  and  sobbed  out  with  a  passionate  cry,  "Father, 
father !  forgive  me  if  I  have  not  loved  you  enough,  I  will  — 
I  will!" 

The  old  man's  little  delicate  frame  was  shaken  by  a  surprise 
and  joy  that  were  almost  painful  in  their  intensity.  He  had 
been  going  to  ask  forgiveness  of  her  who  asked  it  for  herself. 
In  that  moment  of  supreme  complex  emotion  one  ray  of  the 
minister's  joy  was  the  thought,  "  Surely  the  work  of  grace 
is  begun  in  her  —  surely  here  is  a  heart  that  the  Lord  hath 
touched." 

They  sat  so,  enclasped  in  silence,  while  Esther  relieved  her 
full  heart.  When  she  raised  her  head,  she  sat  quite  still  for 
a  minute  or  two  looking  fixedly  before  her,  and  keeping  one 
little  hand  in  the  minister's.  Presently  she  looked  at  him 
and  said  — 

"  Then  you  lived  like  a  working  man,  father  ;  you  were  very, 
very  poor.  Yet  my  mother  had  been  used  to  luxury.  She 
was  well  born  —  she  was  a  lady." 

"  It  is  true,  my  dear ;  it  was  a  poor  life  that  I  could  give 
her." 

Mr.  Lyon  answered  in  utter  dimness  as  to  the  course  Es- 
ther's mind  was  taking.  He  had  anticipated  before  his  dis- 
closure, from  his  long-standing  discernment  of  tendencies  in 
her  which  were  often  the  cause  of  silent  grief  to  him,  that  the 
discovery  likely  to  have  the  keenest  interest  for  her  would  be 
that  her  parents  had  a  higher  rank  than  that  of  the  poor  Dissent- 
ing preacher  ;  but  she  had  shown  that  other  and  better  sensibil- 
ities were  predominant.  He  rebuked  himself  now  for  a  hasty 
and  shallow  judgment  concerning  the  child's  inner  life,  and 
waited  for  new  clearness. 

"  But  that  must  be  the  best  life,  father,"  said  Esther,  sud- 
denly rising,  with  a  flush  across  her  paleness,  and  standing  with 
her  head  thrown  a  little  backward,  as  if  some  illumination  had 
given  her  a  new  decision.  "  That  must  be  the  best  life." 


264  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL. 

"  What  life,  my  dear  child  ?  " 

"  Why,  that  where  one  bears  and  does  everything  because  of 
some  great  and  strong  feeling  —  so  that  this  and  that  in  one's 
circumstances  don't  signify." 

"  Yea,  verily  ;  but  the  feeling  that  should  be  thus  supreme 
is  devotedness  to  the  Divine  Will." 

Esther  did  not  speak ;  her  father's  words  did  not  fit  on  to 
the  impressions  wrought  in  her  by  what  he  had  told  her.  She 
sat  down  again,  and  said,  more  quietly  — 

"  Mamma  did  not  speak  much  of  my  —  first  father  ?  " 

"  Not  much,  dear.  She  said  he  was  beautiful  to  the  eye, 
and  good  and  generous ;  and  that  his  family  was  of  those  who 
have  been  long  privileged  among  their  fellows.  But  now  I 
will  deliver  to  you  the  letters,  which,  together  with  a  ring 
and  locket,  are  the  only  visible  memorials  she  retained  of 
him." 

Mr.  Lyon  reached  and  delivered  to  Esther  the  box  contain- 
ing the  relics.  "  Take  them,  and  examine  them  in  privacy, 
my  dear.  And  that  I  may  no  more  err  by  concealment,  I 
will  tell  you  some  late  occurrences  that  bear  on  these  me- 
morials, though  to  my  present  apprehension  doubtfully  and 
confusedly." 

He  then  narrated  to  Esther  all  that  had  passed  between 
himself  and  Christian.  The  possibility  —  to  which  Mr.  Lyon's 
alarms  had  pointed  —  that  her  real  father  might  still  be  living, 
was  a  new  shock.  She  could  not  speak  about  it  to  her  present 
father,  but  it  was  registered  in  silence  as  a  painful  addition  to 
the  uncertainties  which  she  suddenly  saw  hanging  over  her 
life. 

"I  have  little  confidence  in  this  man's  allegations,"  Mr. 
Lyon  ended.  "  I  confess  his  presence  and  speech  are  to  me  as 
the  jarring  of  metal.  He  bears  the  stamp  of  one  who  has 
never  conceived  aught  of  more  sanctity  than  the  lust  of  the 
eye  and  the  pride  of  life.  He  hints  at  some  possible  inheri- 
tance for  you,  and  denounces  mysteriously  the  devices  of  Mr. 
Jermyn.  All  this  may  or  may  not  have  a  true  foundation. 
But  it  is  not  my  part  to  move  in  this  matter  save  on  a 
clearer  showing." 


FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL.  265 

"Certainly  not,  father,"  said  Esther,  eagerly.  A  little  while 
ago,  these  problematic  prospects  might  have  set  her  dreaming 
pleasantly ;  but  now,  for  some  reasons  that  she  could  not  have 
put  distinctly  into  words,  they  affected  her  with  dread. 


CHAPTER   XXVII. 

To  hear  with  eyes  is  part  of  love's  rare  wit. 

SHAKESPEAKE  :  Sonnets. 

Custom  calls  me  to 't : 

What  custom  wills,  in  all  things  should  we  do 't, 
The  dust  on  antique  time  would  lie  unswept, 
And  mountainous  error  be  too  highly  heaped 
For  truth  to  over-peer.  — Coriolanus. 

IN  the  afternoon  Mr.  Lyon  went  out  to  see  the  sick  amongst 
his  flock,  and  Esther,  who  had  been  passing  the  morning  in 
dwelling  on  the  memories  and  the  few  remaining  relics  of  her 
parents,  was  left  alone  in  the  parlor  amidst  the  lingering  odors 
of  the  early  dinner,  not  easily  got  rid  of  in  that  small  house. 
Bich  people,  who  know  nothing  of  these  vulgar  details,  can 
hardly  imagine  their  significance  in  the  history  of  multitudes 
of  human  lives  in  which  the  sensibilities  are  never  adjusted  to 
the  external  conditions.  Esther  always  felt  so  much  discom- 
fort from  those  odors  that  she  usually  seized  any  possibility  of 
escaping  from  them,  and  to-day  they  oppressed  her  the  more 
because  she  was  weary  with  long-continued  agitation.  Why 
did  she  not  put  on  her  bonnet  as  usual  and  get  out  into  the 
open  air  ?  It  was  one  of  those  pleasant  Xovember  afternoons 
—  pleasant  in  the  wide  country — when  the  sunshine  is  on  the 
clinging  brown  leaves  of  the  young  oaks,  and  the  last  yellow 
leaves  of  the  elms  flutter  down  in  the  fresh  but  not  eager 
breeze.  But  Esther  sat  still  on  the  sofa  —  pale  and  with  red- 
dened eyelids,  her  curls  all  pushed  back  carelessly,  and  her 


266  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

elbow  resting  on  the  ridgy  black  horsehair,  which  usually 
almost  set  her  teeth  on  edge  if  she  pressed  it  even  through  her 
sleeve — while  her  eyes  rested  blankly  on  the  dull  street. 
Lyddy  had  said,  "  Miss,  you  look  sadly ;  if  you  can't  take  a 
walk,  go  and  lie  down."  She  had  never  seen  the  curls  in  such  dis- 
order, and  she  reflected  that  there  had  been  a  death  from  typhus 
recently.  But  the  obstinate  Miss  only  shook  her  head. 

Esther  was  waiting  for  the  sake  of  —  not  a  probability,  but 
—  a  mere  possibility,  which  made  the  brothy  odors  endurable. 
Apparently,  in  less  than  half  an  hour,  the  possibility  came  to 
pass,  for  she  changed  her  attitude,  almost  started  from  her 
seat,  sat  down  again,  and  listened  eagerly.  If  Lyddy  should 
send  him  away,  could  she  herself  rush  out  and  call  him  back  ? 
Why  not  ?  Such  things  were  permissible  where  it  was  under- 
stood, from  the  necessity  of  the  case,  that  there  was  only 
friendship.  But  Lyddy  opened  the  door  and  said,  "  Here  's 
Mr.  Holt,  miss,  wants  to  know  if  you  '11  give  him  leave  to 
come  in.  I  told  him  you  was  sadly." 

"  Oh  yes,  Lyddy,  beg  him  to  come  in." 

"I  should  not  have  persevered,"  said  Felix,  as  they  shook 
hands,  "  only  I  know  Lyddy's  dismal  way.  But  you  do  look 
ill,"  he  went  on,  as  he  seated  himself  at  the  other  end  of  the 
sofa.  "  Or  rather  —  for  that 's  a  false  way  of  putting  it  — you 
look  as  if  you  had  been  very  much  distressed.  Do  you  mind 
about  my  taking  notice  of  it  ?  " 

He  spoke  very  kindly,  and  looked  at  her  more  persistently 
than  he  had  ever  done  before,  when  her  hair  was  perfect. 

"  You  are  quite  right.  I  am  not  at  all  ill.  But  I  have  been 
very  much  agitated  this  morning.  My  father  has  been  telling 
me  things  I  never  heard  before  about  my  mother,  and  giving  me 
things  that  belonged  to  her.  She  died  when  I  was  a  very 
little  creature." 

11  Then  it  is  no  new  pain  or  trouble  for  you  and  Mr.  Lyon  ? 
I  could  not  help  being  anxious  to  know  that." 

Esther  passed  her  hand  over  her  brow  before  she  answered. 
"  I  hardly  know  whether  it  is  pain,  or  something  better  than 
pleasure.  It  has  made  :ne  see  things  I  was  blind  to  before  — 
depths  in  my  father's  nature." 


FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL.  267 

As  she  said  this,  she  looked  at  Felix,  and  their  eyes  met 
very  gravely. 

"It  is  such  a  beautiful  day,"  he  said,  "it  would  do  you 
good  to  go  into  the  air.  Let  me  take  you  along  the  river 
towards  little  Treby,  will  you  ?  " 

"I  will  put  my  bonnet  on,"  said  Esther,  unhesitatingly, 
though  they  had  never  walked  out  together  before. 

It  is  true  that  to  get  into  the  fields  they  had  to  pass  through 
the  street ;  and  when  Esther  saw  some  acquaintances,  she  re- 
flected that  her  walking  alone  with  Felix  might  be  a  subject 
of  remark  —  all  the  more  because  of  his  cap,  patched  boots,  no 
cravat,  and  thick  stick.  Esther  was  a  little  amazed  herself  at 
what  she  had  come  to.  So  our  lives  glide  on  :  the  river  ends 
we  don't  know  where,  and  the  sea  begins,  and  then  there  is  no 
more  jumping  ashore. 

When  they  were  in  the  streets  Esther  hardly  spoke.  Felix 
talked  with  his  usual  readiness,  as  easily  as  if  he  were  not 
doing  it  solely  to  divert  her  thoughts,  first  about  Job  Tudge's 
delicate  chest,  and  the  probability  that  the  little  white-faced 
monkey  would  not  live  long ;  and  then  about  a  miserable  be- 
ginning of  a  night-school,  which  was  all  he  could  get  together 
at  Sproxton ;  and  the  dismalness  of  that  hamlet,  which  was  a 
sort  of  lip  to  the  coalpit  on  one  side  and  the  "  public  "  on  the 
other  —  and  yet  a  paradise  compared  with  the  wynds  of  Glas- 
gow, where  there  was  little  more  than  a  chink  of  daylight  to 
show  the  hatred  in  women's  faces. 

But  soon  they  got  into  the  fields,  where  there  was  a  right  of 
way  towards  Little  Treby,  now  following  the  course  of  the 
river,  now  crossing  towards  a  lane,  and  now  turning  into  a 
cart-track  through  a  plantation. 

"  Here  we  are !  "  said  Felix,  when  they  had  crossed  the 
wooden  bridge,  and  were  treading  on  the  slanting  shadows 
made  by  the  elm-trunks.  "  I  think  this  is  delicious.  I  never 
feel  less  unhappy  than  in  these  late  autumn  afternoons  when 
they  are  sunny." 

"  Less  unhappy  !  There  now  ! "  said  Esther,  smiling  at  him 
with  some  of  her  habitual  sauciness,  "  I  have  caught  you  in  self- 
contradiction.  I  have  heard  you  quite  furious  against  puling, 


268  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL. 

melancholy  people.  If  I  had  said  what  you  have  just  said, 
you  would  have  given  me  a  long  lecture,  and  told  me  to  go 
home  and  interest  myself  in  the  reason  of  the  rule  of  three." 

"  Very  likely,"  said  Felix,  beating  the  weeds,  according  to 
the  foible  of  our  common  humanity  when  it  has  a  stick  in  its 
hand.  "  But  I  don't  think  myself  a  fine  fellow  because  I  'm 
melancholy.  I  don't  measure  my  force  by  the  negations  in  me, 
and  think  my  soul  must  be  a  mighty  one  because  it  is  more 
given  to  idle  suffering  than  to  beneficent  activity.  That 's  what 
your  favorite  gentlemen  do,  of  the  Byronic-bilious  style." 

"  I  don't  admit  that  those  are  my  favorite  gentlemen." 

"  I  've  heard  you  defend  them —  gentlemen  like  your  Ke'ne's, 
who  have  no  particular  talent  for  the  finite,  but  a  general 
sense  that  the  infinite  is  the  right  thing  for  them.  They 
might  as  well  boast  of  nausea  as  a  proof  of  a  strong  inside." 

"  Stop,  stop !  You  run  on  in  that  way  to  get  out  of  my 
reach.  I  convicted  you  of  confessing  that  you  are  melancholy." 

"Yes,"  said  Felix,  thrusting  his  left  hand  into  his  pocket, 
with  a  shrug  ;  "  as  I  could  confess  to  a  great  many  other  things 
I  'm  not  proud  of.  The  fact  is,  there  are  not  many  easy  lots  to 
be  drawn  in  the  world  at  present ;  and  such  as  they  are  I  am  not 
envious  of  them.  I  don't  say  life  is  not  worth  having :  it  is 
worth  having  to  a  man  who  has  some  sparks  of  sense  and  feel- 
ing and  bravery  in  him.  And  the  finest  fellow  of  all  would  be 
the  one  who  could  be  glad  to  have  lived  because  the  world  was 
chiefly  miserable,  and  his  life  had  come  to  help  some  one  who 
needed  it.  He  would  be  the  man  who  had  the  most  powers  and 
the  fewest  selfish  wants.  But  I  'm  not  up  to  the  level  of  what 
I  see  to  be  best.  I  'm  often  a  hungry  discontented  fellow." 

"  Why  have  you  made  your  life  so  hard  then  ?  "  said  Esther, 
rather  frightened  as  she  asked  the  question.  "  It  seems  to  me 
you  have  tried  to  find  just  the  most  difficult  task." 

"Xot  at  all,"  said  Felix,  with  curt  decision.  "My  course 
was  a  very  simple  one.  It  was  pointed  out  to  me  by  condi- 
tions that  I  saw  as  clearly  as  I  see  the  bars  of  this  stile.  It's 
a  difficult  stile  too,"  added  Felix,  striding  over.  "Shall  I 
help  you,  or  will  you  be  left  to  yourself  ?  " 

"  I  can  do  without  help,  thank  you." 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  269 

"  It  was  all  simple  enough,"  continued  Felix,  as  they  walked 
on.  "  If  I  meant  to  put  a  stop  to  the  sale  of  those  drugs,  I 
must  keep  my  mother,  and  of  course  at  her  age  she  would  not 
leave  the  place  she  had  been  used  to.  And  I  had  made  up  my 
mind  against  what  they  call  genteel  businesses." 

"  But  suppose  every  one  did  as  you  do  ?  Please  to  forgive 
me  for  saying  so ;  but  I  cannot  see  why  you  could  not  have 
lived  as  honorably  with  some  employment  that  presupposes 
education  and  refinement." 

"  Because  you  can't  see  my  history  or  my  nature,"  said 
Felix,  bluntly.  "  I  have  to  determine  for  myself,  and  not  for 
other  men.  I  don't  blame  them,  or  think  I  am  better  than 
they;  their  circumstances  are  different.  I  would  never  choose 
to  withdraw  myself  from  the  labor  and  common  burthen  of  the 
world ;  but  I  do  choose  to  withdraw  myself  from  the  push  and 
the  scramble  for  money  and  position.  Any  man  is  at  liberty 
to  call  me  a  fool,  and  say  that  mankind  are  benefited  by  the 
push  and  the  scramble  in  the  long-run.  But  I  care  for  the  peo- 
ple who  live  now  and  will  not  be  living  when  the  long-run 
comes.  As  it  is,  I  prefer  going  shares  with  the  unlucky." 

Esther  did  not  speak,  and  there  was  silence  between  them, 
for  a  minute  or  two,  till  they  passed  through  a  gate  into  a 
plantation  where  there  was  no  large  timber,  but  only  thin- 
stemmed  trees  and  underwood,  so  that  the  sunlight  fell  on  the 
mossy  spaces  which  lay  open  here  and  there. 

"  See  how  beautiful  those  stooping  birch-stems  are  with  the 
light  on  them  ! "  said  Felix.  "  Here  is  an  old  felled  trunk 
they  have  not  thought  worth  carrying  away.  Shall  we  sit 
down  a  little  while  ?  " 

"  Yes  ;  the  mossy  ground  with  the  dry  leaves  sprinkled  over 
it  is  delightful  to  one's  feet."  Esther  sat  down  and  took  off 
her  bonnet,  that  the  light  breeze  might  fall  on  her  head. 
Felix,  too,  threw  down  his  cap  and  stick,  lying  on  the  ground 
with  his  back  against  the  felled  trunk. 

"I  wish  I  felt  more  as  you  do,"  she  said,  looking  at  the 
point  of  her  foot,  which  was  playing  with  a  tuft  of  moss.  "  I 
can't  help  caring  very  much  what  happens  to  me.  And  you 
seem  to  care  so  little  about  yourself." 


270  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  KADICAL. 

"You  are  thoroughly  mistaken,"  said  Felix.  "It  is  just 
because  I  'm  a  very  ambitious  fellow,  with  very  hungry  pas- 
sions, wanting  a  great  deal  to  satisfy  me,  that  I  have  chosen 
to  give  up  what  people  call  worldly  good.  At  least  that  has 
been  one  determining  reason.  It  all  depends  on  what  a  man 
gets  into  his  consciousness  —  what  life  thrusts  into  his  mind, 
so  that  it  becomes  present  to  him  as  remorse  is  present  to  the 
guilty,  or  a  mechanical  problem  to  an  inventive  genius.  There 
are  two  things  I  've  got  present  in  that  way  :  one  of  them  is 
the  picture  of  what  I  should  hate  to  be.  I  'm  determined  never 
to  go  about  making  my  face  simpering  or  solemn,  and  telling 
professional  lies  for  profit ;  or  to  get  tangled  in  affairs  where 
I  must  wink  at  dishonesty  and  pocket  the  proceeds,  and  justify 
that  knavery  as  part  of  a  system  that  I  can't  alter.  If  I  once 
went  into  that  sort  of  struggle  for  success,  I  should  want  to  win 
—  I  should  defend  the  wrong  that  I  had  once  identified  myself 
with.  I  should  become  everything  that  I  see  now  beforehand 
to  be  detestable.  And  what 's  more,  I  should  do  this,  as  men 
are  doing  it  every  day,  for  a  ridiculously  small  prize  —  per- 
haps for  none  at  all  —  perhaps  for  the  sake  of  two  parlors,  a 
rank  eligible  for  the  churchwardenship,  a  discontented  wife, 
and  several  unhopeful  children." 

Esther  felt  a  terrible  pressure  on  her  heart  —  the  certainty 
of  her  remoteness  from  Felix  —  the  sense  that  she  was  utterly 
trivial  to  him. 

"  The  other  thing  that 's  got  into  my  mind  like  a  splinter," 
said  Felix,  after  a  pause,  "is  the  life  of  the  miserable — the 
spawning  life  of  vice  and  hunger.  I  '11  never  be  one  of  the 
sleek  dogs.  The  old  Catholics  are  right,  with  their  higher 
rule  and  their  lower.  Some  are  called  to  subject  themselves 
to  a  harder  discipline,  and  renounce  things  voluntarily  which 
are  lawful  for  others.  It  is  the  old  word  — '  necessity  is  laid 
upon  me.'  ' 

"  It  seems  to  me  you  are  stricter  than  my  father  is." 

"No.  I  quarrel  with  no  delight  that  is  not  base  or  cruel, 
but  one  must  sometimes  accommodate  one  's  self  to  a  small 
share.  That  is  the  lot  of  the  majority.  I  would  wish  the 
minority  joy,  only  they  don't  want  my  wishes." 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  271 

Again  there  was  silence.  Esther's  cheeks  were  hot  in  spite 
of  the  breeze  that  sent  her  hair  floating  backward.  She  felt 
an  inward  strain,  a  demand  on  her  to  see  things  in  a  light 
that  was  not  easy  or  soothing.  When  Felix  had  asked  her  to 
walk,  he  had  seemed  so  kind,  so  alive  to  what  might  be  her 
feelings,  that  she  had  thought  herself  nearer  to  him  than  she 
had  ever  been  before ;  but  since  they  had  come  out,  he  had 
appeared  to  forget  all  that.  And  yet  she  was  conscious  that 
this  impatience  of  hers  was  very  petty.  Battling  in  this  way 
with  her  own  little  impulses,  and  looking  at  the  birch-stems 
opposite  till  her  gaze  was  too  wide  for  her  to  see  anything 
distinctly,  she  was  unaware  how  long  they  had  remained  with- 
out speaking.  She  did  not  know  that  Felix  had  changed  his 
attitude  a  little,  and  was  resting  his  elbow  on  the  tree-trunk, 
while  he  supported  his  head,  which  was  turned  towards  her. 
Suddenly  he  said,  in  a  lower  tone  than  was  habitual  to  him  — 

"  You  are  very  beautiful." 

She  started  and  looked  round  at  him,  to  see  whether  his 
face  would  give  some  help  to  the  interpretation  of  this  novel 
speech.  He  was  looking  up  at  her  quite  calmly,  very  much  as 
a  reverential  Protestant  might  look  at  a  picture  of  the  Virgin, 
with  a  devoutness  suggested  by  the  type  rather  than  by  the 
image.  Esther's  vanity  was  not  in  the  least  gratified :  she  felt 
that,  somehow  or  other,  Felix  was  going  to  reproach  her. 

"  I  wonder,"  he  went  on,  still  looking  at  her,  "  whether  the 
subtle  measuring  of  forces  will  ever  come  to  measuring  the 
force  there  would  be  in  one  beautiful  woman  whose  mind  was 
as  noble  as  her  face  was  beautiful  —  who  made  a  man's  pas- 
sion for  her  rush  in  one  current  with  all  the  great  aims  of  his 
life." 

Esther's  eyes  got  hot  and  smarting.  It  was  no  use  trying 
to  be  dignified.  She  had  turned  away  her  head,  and  now  said, 
rather  bitterly,  "  It  is  difficult  for  a  woman  ever  to  try  to  be 
anything  good  when  she  is  not  believed  in  —  when  it  is  always 
supposed  that  she  must  be  contemptible." 

"No,  dear  Esther"  —  it  was  the  first  time  Felix  had  been 
prompted  to  call  her  by  her  Christian  name,  and  as  he  did  so 
he  laid  his  large  hand  on  her  two  little  hands,  which  were 


272  FELIX  HOLT,   THE   RADICAL. 

clasped  on  her  knees.  "  You  don't  believe  that  I  think  you 
contemptible.  When  I  first  saw  you  —  " 

"I  know,  I  know,"  said  Esther,  interrupting  him  impetu- 
ously, but  still  looking  away.  "  You  mean  you  did  think  me 
contemptible  then.  But  it  was  very  narrow  of  you  to  judge 
me  in  that  way,  when  my  life  had  been  so  different  from 
yours.  I  have  great  faults.  I  know  I  am  selfish,  and  think 
too  much  of  my  own  small  tastes  and  too  little  of  what  affects 
others.  But  I  am  not  stupid.  I  am  not  unfeeling.  I  can  see 
what  is  better." 

"But  I  have  not  done  you  injustice  since  I  knew  more  of 
you,"  said  Felix,  gently. 

"Yes,  you  have,"  said  Esther,  turning  and  smiling  at  him 
through  her  tears.  "  You  talk  to  me  like  an  angry  pedagogue. 
Were  you  always  wise  ?  Eeniember  the  time  when  you  were 
foolish  or  naughty." 

"  That  is  not  far  off,"  said  Felix,  curtly,  taking  away  his 
hand,  and  clasping  it  with  the  other  at  the  back  of  his  head. 
The  talk,  which  seemed  to  be  introducing  a  mutual  under- 
standing, such  as  had  not  existed  before,  seemed  to  have 
undergone  some  check. 

"  Shall  we  get  up  and  walk  back  now  ?  "  said  Esther,  after 
a  few  moments. 

"No,"  said  Felix,  entreatingly.  "Don't  move  yet.  I  dare 
say  we  shall  never  walk  together  or  sit  here  again." 

"  Why  not  ?  " 

"  Because  I  am  a  man  who  am  warned  by  visions.  Those 
old  stories  of  visions  and  dreams  guiding  men  have  their 
truth :  we  are  saved  by  making  the  future  present  to  our- 
selves." 

"  I  wish  I  could  get  visions,  then,"  said  Esther,  smiling  at 
him,  with  an  effort  of  playfulness,  in  resistance  to  something 
vaguely  mournful  within  her. 

"That  is  what  I  want,"  said  Felix,  looking  at  her  very 
earnestly.  "  Don't  turn  your  head.  Do  look  at  me,  and  then 
I  shall  know  if  I  may  go  on  speaking.  I  do  believe  in  you  ; 
but  I  want  you  to  have  such  a  vision  of  the  future  that  you 
may  never  lose  your  best  self.  Some  charm  or  other  may  be 


FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL.  273 

flung  about  you  —  some  of  your  atta-of-rose  fascinations  —  and 
nothing  but  a  good  strong  terrible  vision  will  save  you.  And 
if  it  did  save  you,  you  might  be  that  woman  I  was  thinking 
of  a  little  while  ago  when  I  looked  at  your  face  :  the  woman 
whose  beauty  makes  a  great  task  easier  to  men  instead  of 
turning  them  away  from  it.  I  am  not  likely  to  see  such  fine 
issues ;  but  they  may  come  where  a  woman's  spirit  is  finely 
touched.  I  should  like  to  be  sure  they  would  come  to  you." 

"Why  are  you  not  likely  to  know  what  becomes  of  me?" 
said  Esther,  turning  away  her  eyes  in  spite  of  his  command. 
"Why  should  you  not  always  be  my  father's  friend  and 
mine  ?  " 

"  Oh,  I  shall  go  away  as  soon  as  I  can  to  some  large  town," 
said  Felix,  in  his  more  usual  tone,  —  "  some  ugly,  wicked,  mis- 
erable place.  I  want  to  be  a  demagogue  of  a  new  sort;  an 
honest  one,  if  possible,  who  will  tell  the  people  they  are  blind 
and  foolish,  and  neither  flatter  them  nor  fatten  on  them.  I 
have  my  heritage  —  an  order  I  belong  to.  I  have  the  blood  of 
a  line  of  handicraftsmen  in  my  veins,  and  I  want  to  stand  up 
for  the  lot  of  the  handicraftsman  as  a  good  lot,  in  which  a 
man  may  be  better  trained  to  all  the  best  functions  of  his 
nature  than  if  he  belonged  to  the  grimacing  set  who  have 
visiting-cards,  and  are  proud  to  be  thought  richer  than  their 
neighbors." 

"  Would  nothing  ever  make  it  seem  right  to  you  to  change 
your  mind  ?  "  said  Esther  (she  had  rapidly  woven  some  possi- 
bilities out  of  the  new  uncertainties  in  her  own  lot,  though 
she  would  not  for  the  world  have  had  Felix  know  of  her 
weaving).  "  Suppose,  by  some  means  or  other,  a  fortune 
might  come  to  you  honorably  —  by  marriage,  or  in  any  other 
unexpected  way  —  would  you  see  no  change  in  your  course  ?  " 

"  jSTo,"  said  Felix,  peremptorily ;  "  I  will  never  be  rich.  I 
don't  count  that  as  any  peculiar  virtue.  Some  men  do  well  to 
accept  riches,  but  that  is  not  my  inward  vocation  :  I  have  no 
fellow-feeling  with  the  rich  as  a  class ;  the  habits  of  their 
lives  are  odious  to  me.  Thousands  of  men  have  wedded  pov- 
erty because  they  expect  to  go  to  heaven  for  it ;  I  don't  expect 
to  go  to  heaven  for  it,  but  I  wed  it  because  it  enables  me  to  do 
VOL.  in.  18 


274  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL. 

what  I  most  want  to  do  on  earth.  Whatever  the  hopes  for 
the  world  may  be  —  whether  great  or  small  —  I  am  a  man  of 
this  generation ;  I  will  try  to  make  life  less  bitter  for  a  few 
within  my  reach.  It  is  held  reasonable  enough  to  toil  for  the 
fortunes  of  a  family,  though  it  may  turn  to  imbecility  in  the 
third  generation.  I  choose  a  family  with  more  chances  in  it." 

Esther  looked  before  her  dreamily  till  she  said,  "  That  seems 
a  hard  lot ;  yet  it  is  a  great  one."  She  rose  to  walk  back. 

"  Then  you  don't  think  I  'm  a  fool,"  said  Felix,  loudly, 
starting  to  his  feet,  and  then  stooping  to  gather  up  his  cap 
and  stick. 

"  Of  course  you  suspected  me  of  that  stupidity." 

"Well  —  women,  unless  they  are  Saint  Theresas  or  Eliza- 
beth Frys,  generally  think  this  sort  of  thing  madness,  unless 
when  they  read  of  it  in  the  Bible." 

"  A  woman  can  hardly  ever  choose  in  that  way ;  she  is  de- 
pendent on  what  happens  to  her.  She  must  take  meaner 
things,  because  only  meaner  things  are  within  her  reach." 

"  Why,  can  you  imagine  yourself  choosing  hardship  as  the 
better  lot  ?  "  said  Felix,  looking  at  her  with  a  sudden  question 
in  his  eyes. 

"Yes,  I  can,"  she  said,  flushing  over  neck  and  brow. 

Their  words  were  charged  with  a  meaning  dependent  en- 
tirely on  the  secret  consciousness  of  each.  ^Nothing  had  been 
said  which  was  necessarily  personal.  They  walked  a  few 
yards  along  the  road  by  which  they  had  come,  without  further 
speech,  till  Felix  said  gently,  "  Take  my  arm."  She  took  it, 
and  they  walked  home  so,  entirely  without  conversation. 
Felix  was  struggling  as  a  firm  man  struggles  with  a  tempta- 
tion, seeing  beyond  it  and  disbelieving  its  lying  promise. 
Esther  was  struggling  as  a  woman  struggles  with  the  yearn- 
ing for  some  expression  of  love,  and  with  vexation  under  that 
subjection  to  a  yearning  which  is  not  likely  to  be  satisfied. 
Each  was  conscious  of  a  silence  which  each  was  unable  to 
break,  till  they  entered  Malthouse  Lane,  and  were  within  a 
few  yards  of  the  minister's  door. 

"  It  is  getting  dusk,"  Felix  then  said ;  "  will  Mr.  Lyon  be 
anxious  about  you  ?  " 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  275 

"  No,  I  think  not.  Lyddy  would  tell  him  that  I  went  out 
with  you,  and  that  you  carried  a  large  stick,"  said  Esther, 
with  her  light  laugh. 

Felix  went  in  with  Esther  to  take  tea,  but  the  conversation 
was  entirely  between  him  and  Mr.  Lyon  about  the  tricks  of 
canvassing,  the  foolish  personality  of  the  placards,  and  the 
probabilities  of  Transome's  return,  as  to  which  Felix  declared 
himself  to  have  become  indifferent.  This  scepticism  made  the 
minister  uneasy :  he  had  great  belief  in  the  old  political  watch- 
words, had  preached  that  universal  suffrage  and  no  ballot  were 
agreeable  to  the  will  of  God,  and  liked  to  believe  that  a  visible 
"  instrument "  was  forthcoming  in  the  Radical  Candidate  who 
had  pronounced  emphatically  against  Whig  finality.  Felix, 
being  in  a  perverse  mood,  contended  that  universal  suffrage 
would  be  equally  agreeable  to  the  devil ;  that  he  would  change 
his  politics  a  little,  have  a  larger  traffic,  and  see  himself  more 
fully  represented  in  Parliament. 

"Nay,  my  friend,"  said  the  minister,  "you  are  again  sport- 
ing with  paradox  ;  for  you  will  not  deny  that  you  glory  in  the 
name  of  Eadical,  or  Root-and-branch  man,  as  they  said  in  the 
great  times  when  Nonconformity  was  in  its  giant  youth." 

"  A  Eadical  —  yes  ;  but  I  want  to  go  to  some  roots  a  good 
deal  lower  down  than  the  franchise." 

"  Truly  there  is  a  work  within  which  cannot  be  dispensed 
with ;  but  it  is  our  preliminary  work  to  free  men  from  the  sti- 
fled life  of  political  nullity,  and  bring  them  into  what  Milton 
calls  '  the  liberal  air,'  wherein  alone  can  be  wrought  the  final 
triumphs  of  the  Spirit." 

"  With  all  my  heart.  But  while  Caliban  is  Caliban,  though 
you  multiply  him  by  a  million,  he  '11  worship  every  Trinculo 
that  carries  a  bottle.  I  forget,  though  —  you  don't  read 
Shakespeare,  Mr.  Lyon." 

"  I  am  bound  to  confess  that  I  have  so  far  looked  into  a 
volume  of  Esther's  as  to  conceive  your  meaning ;  but  the 
fantasies  therein  were  so  little  to  be  reconciled  with  a  steady 
contemplation  of  that  divine  economy  which  is  hidden  from 
sense  and  revealed  to  faith,  that  I  forbore  the  reading,  as 
likely  to  perturb  my  ministrations." 


276  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL. 

Esther  sat  by  in  unusual  silence.  The  conviction  that 
Felix  willed  her  exclusion  from  his  life  was  making  it  plain 
that  something  more  than  friendship  between  them  was  not 
so  thoroughly  out  of  the  question  as  she  had  always  inwardly 
asserted.  In  her  pain  that  his  choice  lay  aloof  from  her,  she 
was  compelled  frankly  to  admit  to  herself  the  longing  that  it 
had  been  otherwise,  and  that  he  had  entreated  her  to  share 
his  difficult  life.  He  was  like  no  one  else  to  her :  he  had 
seemed  to  bring  at  once  a  law,  and  the  love  that  gave  strength 
to  obey  the  law.  Yet  the  next  moment,  stung  by  his  inde- 
pendence of  her,  she  denied  that  she  loved  him ;  she  had  only 
longed  for  a  moral  support  under  the  negations  of  her  life. 
If  she  were  not  to  have  that  support,  all  effort  seemed  useless. 

Esther  had  been  so  long  used  to  hear  the  formulas  of  her 
father's  belief  without  feeling  or  understanding  them,  that 
they  had  lost  all  power  to  touch  her.  The  first  religious 
experience  of  her  life  —  the  first  self -questioning,  the  first  vol- 
untary subjection,  the  first  longing  to  acquire  the  strength  of 
greater  motives  and  obey  the  more  strenuous  rule  —  had  come 
to  her  through  Felix  Holt.  No  wonder  that  she  felt  as  if  the 
loss  of  him  were  inevitable  backsliding. 

But  was  it  certain  that  she  should  lose  him  ?  She  did  not 
believe  that  he  was  really  indifferent  to  her. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

Titus.    But  what  says  Jupiter,  I  ask  thee  ? 
Clown.     Alas,  sir,  I  know  not  Jupiter  : 

I  never  drank  with  him  in  all  my  life. 

Titus  Andronicus. 

THE  multiplication  of  uncomplimentary  placards  noticed  by 
Mr.  Lyon  and  Felix  Holt  was  one  of  several  signs  that  the 
days  of  nomination  and  election  were  approaching.  The 
presence  of  the  Revising  Barrister  in  Treby  was  not  only  an 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  277 

opportunity  for  all  persons  not  otherwise  busy  to  show  their 
zeal  for  the  purification  of  the  voting-lists,  but  also  to  recon- 
cile private  ease  and  public  duty  by  standing  about  the  streets 
and  lounging  at  doors. 

It  was  no  light  business  for  Trebians  to  form  an  opinion ; 
the  mere  fact  of  a  public  functionary  with  an  unfamiliar  title 
was  enough  to  give  them  pause,  as  a  premiss  that  was  not 
to  be  quickly  started  from.  To  Mr.  Pink,  the  saddler,  for 
example,  until  some  distinct  injury  or  benefit  had  accrued  to 
him,  the  existence  of  the  Revising  Barrister  was  like  the 
existence  of  the  young  giraffe  which  Wombwell  had  lately 
brought  into  those  parts — it  was  to  be  contemplated,  and  not 
criticised.  Mr.  Pink  professed  a  deep-dyed  Toryism ;  but  he 
regarded  all  fault-finding  as  Radical  and  somewhat  impious, 
as  disturbing  to  trade,  and  likely  to  offend  the  gentry  or  the 
servants  through  whom  their  harness  was  ordered  :  there  was 
a  Nemesis  in  things  which  made  objection  unsafe,  and  even 
the  Reform  Bill  was  a  sorb  of  electric  eel  which  a  thriving 
tradesman  had  better  leave  alone.  It  was  only  the  "  Papists  " 
who  lived  far  enough  off  to  be  spoken  of  uncivilly. 

But  Mr.  Pink  was  fond  of  news,  which  he  collected  and 
retailed  with  perfect  impartiality,  noting  facts  and  rejecting 
comments.  Hence  he  was  well  pleased  to  have  his  shop  so 
constant  a  place  of  resort  for  loungers,  that  to  many  Trebians 
there  was  a  strong  association  between  the  pleasures  of  gossip 
and  the  smell  of  leather.  He  had  the  satisfaction  of  chalk- 
ing and  cutting,  and  of  keeping  his  journeymen  close  at  work, 
at  the  very  time  that  he  learned  from  his  visitors  who  were 
those  whose  votes  had  been  called  in  question  before  His 
Honor,  how  Lawyer  Jermyn  had  been  too  much  for  Lawyer 
Labron  about  Todd's  cottages,  and  how,  in  the  opinion  of 
some  townsmen,  this  looking  into  the  value  of  people's  prop- 
erty, and  swearing  it  down  below  a  certain  sum,  was  a  nasty 
inquisitorial  kind  of  thing ;  while  others  observed  that  being 
nice  to  a  few  pounds  was  all  nonsense  —  they  should  put  the 
figure  high  enough,  and  then  never  mind  if  a  voter's  qualifi- 
cation was  thereabouts.  But,  said  Mr.  Sims  the  auctioneer, 
everything  was  done  for  the  sake  of  the  lawyers.  Mr.  Pink 


278  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL. 

suggested  impartially  that  lawyers  must  live ;  but  Mr.  Sims, 
having  a  ready  auctioneering  wit,  did  not  see  that  so  many  of 
them  need  live,  or  that  babies  were  born  lawyers.  Mr.  Pink 
felt  that  this  speculation  was  complicated  by  the  ordering  of 
side-saddles  for  lawyers'  daughters,  and,  returning  to  the  firm 
ground  of  fact,  stated  that  it  was  getting  dusk. 

The  dusk  seemed  deepened  the  next  moment  by  a  tall  figure 
obstructing  the  doorway,  at  sight  of  whom  Mr.  Pink  rubbed  his 
hands  and  smiled  and  bowed  more  than  once,  with  evident  so- 
licitude to  show  honor  where  honor  was  due,  while  he  said  — 

"  Mr.  Christian,  sir,  how  do  you  do,  sir  ?  " 

Christian  answered  with  the  condescending  familiarity  of  a 
superior.  "  Very  badly,  I  can  tell  you,  with  these  confounded 
braces  that  you  were  to  make  such  a  fine  job  of.  See,  old 
fellow,  they  've  burst  out  again." 

"  Very  sorry,  sir.    Can  you  leave  them  with  me  ?  " 

"  Oh  yes,  I  '11  leave  them.  What 's  the  news,  eh  ?  "  said 
Christian,  half  seating  himself  on  a  high  stool,  and  beating 
his  boot  with  a  hand-whip. 

"  Well,  sir,  we  look  to  you  to  tell  us  that,"  said  Mr.  Pink, 
with  a  knowing  smile.  "  You  're  at  head-quarters  —  eh,  sir  ? 
That  was  what  I  said  to  Mr.  Scales  the  other  day.  He  came 
for  some  straps,  Mr.  Scales  did,  and  he  asked  that  question 
in  pretty  near  the  same  terms  that  you  've  done,  sir,  and  I 
answered  him,  as  I  may  say,  ditto.  Not  meaning  any  dis- 
respect to  you,  sir,  but  a  way  of  speaking." 

"  Come,  that 's  gammon,  Pink,"  said  Christian.  "  You  know 
everything.  You  can  tell  me,  if  you  will,  who  is  the  fellow 
employed  to  paste  up  Transome's  handbills  ?  " 

"  What  do  you  say,  Mr.  Sims  ?  "  said  Pink,  looking  at  the 
auctioneer. 

"  Why,  you  know  and  I  know  well  enough.  It 's  Tommy 
Trounsem  —  an  old,  crippling,  half-mad  fellow.  Most  people 
know  Tommy.  I  've  employed  him  myself  for  charity." 

"  Where  shall  I  find  him  ?  "  said  Christian. 

"At  the  Cross-Keys,  in  Pollard's  End,  most  likely,"  said 
Mr.  Sims.  "I  don't  know  where  he  puts  himself  when  he 
is  n't  at  the  public." 


FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL.  279 

"He  was  a  stoutish  fellow  fifteen  year  ago,  when  he  car- 
ried pots,"  said  Mr.  Pink. 

"  Ay,  and  has  snared  many  a  hare  in  his  time,"  said  Mr. 
Sims.  "  But  he  was  always  a  little  cracked.  Lord  bless  you  ! 
he  used  to  swear  he  had  a  right  to  the  Transome  estate." 

"  Why,  what  put  that  notion  into  his  head  ?  "  said  Chris- 
tian, who  had  learned  more  than  he  expected. 

''The  lawing,  sir  —  nothing  but  the  lawing  about  the 
estate.  There  was  a  deal  of  it  twenty  year  ago,"  said  Mr. 
Pink.  "  Tommy  happened  to  turn  up  hereabout  at  that 
time ;  a  big,  lungeous  fellow,  who  would  speak  disrespectfully 
of  hanybody." 

"  Oh,  he  meant  no  harm,"  said  Mr.  Sims.  "  He  was  fond  of 
a  drop  to  drink,  and  not  quite  right  in  the  upper  story,  and  he 
could  hear  no  difference  between  Trounsem  and  Transome. 
It 's  an  odd  way  of  speaking  they  have  in  that  part  where  he 
was  born  —  a  little  north'ard.  You'll  hear  it  in  his  tongue 
now,  if  you  talk  to  him." 

"  At  the  Cross-Keys  I  shall  find  him,  eh  ?  "  said  Christian, 
getting  off  his  stool.  "  Good-day,  Pink  —  good-day." 

Christian  went  straight  from  the  saddler's  to  Quorlen's,  the 
Tory  printer's,  with  whom  he  had  contrived  a  political  spree. 
Quorlen  was  a  new  man  in  Treby,  who  had  so  reduced  the 
trade  of  Dow,  the  old  hereditary  printer,  that  Dow  had  lapsed 
to  Whiggery  and  Radicalism  and  opinions  in  general,  so  far 
as  they  were  contented  to  express  themselves  in  a  small  stock 
of  types.  Quorlen  had  brought  his  Duffield  wit  with  him,  and 
insisted  that  religion  and  joking  were  the  handmaids  of  poli- 
tics ;  on  which  principle  he  and  Christian  undertook  the  jok- 
ing, and  left  the  religion  to  the  Rector.  The  joke  at  present  in 
question  was  a  practical  one.  Christian,  turning  into  the  shop, 
merely  said,  "  I  've  found  him  out  —  give  me  the  placards ; " 
and,  tucking  a  thickish  flat  bundle,  wrapped  in  a  black  glazed 
cotton  bag,  under  his  arm,  walked  out  into  the  dusk  again. 

"Suppose  now,"  he  said  to  himself,  as  he  strode  along  — 
"suppose  there  should  be  some  secret  to  be  got  out  of  this 
old  scamp,  or  some  notion  that 's  as  good  as  a  secret  to  those 
who  know  how  to  use  it  ?  That  would  be  virtue  rewarded. 


280  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

But  I  'm  afraid  the  old  tosspot  is  not  likely  to  be  good  for 
much.  There 's  truth  in  wine,  and  there  may  be  some  in  gin 
and  muddy  beer ;  but  whether  it 's  truth  worth  my  knowing, 
is  another  question.  I  've  got  plenty  of  truth  in  my  time  out 
of  men  who  were  half-seas-over,  but  never  any  that  was  worth 
a  sixpence  to  me." 

The  Cross-Keys  was  a  very  old-fashioned  "  public : "  its  bar 
was  a  big  rambling  kitchen,  with  an  undulating  brick  floor ; 
the  small-paned  windows  threw  an  interesting  obscurity  over 
the  far-off  dresser,  garnished  with  pewter  and  tin,  and  with 
large  dishes  that  seemed  to  speak  of  better  times;  the  two 
settles  were  half  pushed  under  the  wide-mouthed  chimney; 
and  the  grate  with  its  brick  hobs,  massive  iron  crane,  and  vari- 
ous pothooks,  suggested  a  generous  plenty  possibly  existent 
in  all  moods  and  tenses  except  the  indicative  present.  One 
way  of  getting  an  idea  of  our  fellow-countrymen's  miseries 
is  to  go  and  look  at  their  pleasures.  The  Cross-Keys  had  a 
fungous-featured  landlord  and  a  yellow  sickly  landlady,  with 
a  large  white  kerchief  bound  round  her  cap,  as  if  her  head  had 
recently  required  surgery ;  it  had  doctored  ale,  an  odor  of  bad 
tobacco,  and  remarkably  strong  cheese.  It  was  not  what  As- 
trsea,  when  come  back,  might  be  expected  to  approve  as  the 
scene  of  ecstatic  enjoyment  for  the  beings  whose  special  pre- 
rogative it  is  to  lift  their  sublime  faces  towards  heaven.  Still, 
there  was  ample  space  on  the  hearth  —  accommodation  for  nar- 
rative bagmen  or  boxmen  —  room  for  a  man  to  stretch  his 
legs ;  his  brain  was  not  pressed  upon  by  a  white  wall  within  a 
yard  of  him,  and  the  light  did  not  stare  in  mercilessly  on  bare 
ugliness,  turning  the  fire  to  ashes.  Compared  with  some  beer- 
houses of  this  more  advanced  period,  the  Cross-Keys  of  that 
day  presented  a  high  standard  of  pleasure. 

But  though  this  venerable  "  public  "  had  not  failed  to  share 
in  the  recent  political  excitement  of  drinking,  the  pleasures  it 
offered  were  not  at  this  early  hour  of  the  evening  sought  by 
a  numerous  company.  There  were  only  three  or  four  pipes 
being  smoked  by  the  firelight,  but  it  was  enough  for  Christian 
when  he  found  that  one  of  these  was  being  smoked  by  the  bill- 
sticker,  whose  large  flat  basket,  stuffed  with  placards,  leaned 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  281 

near  him  against  the  settle.  So  splendid  an  apparition  as 
Christian  was  not  a  little  startling  at  the  Cross-Keys,  and  was 
gazed  at  in  expectant  silence ;  but  he  was  a  stranger  in  Pol- 
lard's End,  and  was  taken  for  the  highest  style  of  traveller 
when  he  declared  that  he  was  deucedly  thirsty,  ordered  six. 
penny-worth  of  gin  and  a  large  jug  of  water,  and,  putting  a  few 
drops  of  the  spirit  into  his  own  glass,  invited  Tommy  Troun- 
sem,  who  sat  next  him,  to  help  himself.  Tommy  was  not 
slower  than  a  shaking  hand  obliged  him  to  be  in  accepting 
this  invitation.  He  was  a  tall  broad-shouldered  old  fellow, 
who  had  once  been  good-looking ;  but  his  cheeks  and  chest 
were  both  hollow  now,  and  his  limbs  were  shrunken. 

"You've  got  some  bills  there,  master,  eh?"  said  Christian, 
pointing  to  the  basket.  "Is  there  an  auction  coming  on  ? " 

"Auction  ?  no,"  said  Tommy,  with  a  gruff  hoarseness,  which 
was  the  remnant  of  a  jovial  bass,  and  with  an  accent  which 
differed  from  the  Trebian  fitfully,  as  an  early  habit  is  wont  to 
reassert  itself.  "  I  've  nought  to  do  wi'  auctions ;  I  'm  a  pol'ti- 
cal  charicter.  It 's  me  am  getting  Trounsem  into  Parl'ment." 

"  Trounsem,  says  he,"  the  landlord  observed,  taking  out  his 
pipe  with  a  low  laugh.  "  It 's  Transome,  sir.  Maybe  you 
don't  belong  to  this  part.  It 's  the  candidate  'ull  do  most  for 
the  working  men,  and's  proved  it  too,  in  the  way  o'  being 
open-handed  and  wishing  'em  to  enjoy  themselves.  If  I  'd 
twenty  votes,  I  'd  give  one  for  Transome,  and  I  don't  care  who 
hears  me." 

The  landlord  peeped  out  from  his  fungous  cluster  of  features 
with  a  beery  confidence  that  the  high  figure  of  twenty  had 
somehow  raised  the  hypothetic  value  of  his  vote. 

"  Spilkins,  now,"  said  Tommy,  waving  his  hand  to  the  land- 
lord, "you  let  one  genelman  speak  to  another,  will  you  ?  This 
genelman  wants  to  know  about  my  bills.  Does  he,  or  does  n't 
he?" 

"What  then?  I  spoke  according,"  said  the  landlord,  mildly 
holding  his  own. 

"You're  all  very  well,  Spilkins,"  returned  Tommy,  "but 
y'  are  n't  me.  1  know  what  the  bills  are.  It 's  public  busi- 
ness. I  'm  none  o'  your  common  bill-stickers,  master ;  I  've 


282  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  KADICAL. 

left  off  sticking  up  ten  guineas  reward  for  a  sheep-stealer,  or 
low  stuff  like  that.  These  are  Trounsein's  bills ;  and  I  'm  the 
rightful  family,  and  so  I  give  him  a  lift.  A  Trounsem  I  am, 
and  a  Trounsem  I  '11  be  buried ;  and  if  Old  Nick  tries  to  lay 
hold  on  me  for  poaching,  I  '11  say,  '  You  be  hanged  for  a  law- 
yer, Old  Nick;  every  hare  and  pheasant  on  the  Trounsem's 
land  is  mine ; '  and  what  rises  the  family,  rises  old  Tommy ; 
and  we  're  going  to  get  into  Parl'ment  —  that 's  the  long  and 
the  short  on  't,  master.  And  I  'm  the  head  o'  the  family, 
and  I  stick  the  bills.  There  's  Johnsons,  and  Thomsons,  and 
Jacksons,  and  Billsons ;  but  I  'm  a  Trounsem,  I  am.  What 
do  you  say  to  that,  master  ?  " 

This  appeal,  accompanied  by  a  blow  on  the  table,  while  the 
landlord  winked  at  the  company,  was  addressed  to  Christian, 
who  answered,  with  severe  gravity  — 

"I  say  there  isn't  any  work  more  honorable  than  bill- 
sticking." 

"  No,  no,"  said  Tommy,  wagging  his  head  from  side  to  side. 
"  I  thought  you  'd  come  in  to  that.  I  thought  you  'd  know 
better  than  say  contrairy.  But  I  '11  shake  hands  wi'  you ;  I 
don't  want  to  knock  any  man's  head  off.  I  'm  a  good  chap  — 
a  sound  crock  —  an  old  family  kep'  out  o'  my  rights.  I  shall 
go  to  heaven,  for  all  Old  Nick." 

As  these  celestial  prospects  might  imply  that  a  little  extra 
gin  was  beginning  to  tell  on  the  bill-sticker,  Christian  wanted 
to  lose  no  time  in  arresting  his  attention.  He  laid  his  hand 
on  Tommy's  arm  and  spoke  emphatically. 

"  But  I  '11  tell  you  what  you  bill-stickers  are  not  up  to.  You 
should  be  on  the  look-out  when  Debarry's  side  have  stuck  up 
fresh  bills,  and  go  and  paste  yours  over  them.  I  know  where 
there  's  a  lot  of  Debarry's  bills  now.  Come  along  with  me, 
and  I'll  show  you.  "We'll  paste  them  over,  and  then  we'll 
come  back  and  treat  the  company." 

"  Hooray  ! "  said  Tommy.     "  Let 's  be  off  then." 

He  was  one  of  the  thoroughly  inured,  originally  hale  drunk- 
ards, and  did  not  easily  lose  his  head  or  legs  or  the  ordinary 
amount  of  method  in  his  talk.  Strangers  often  supposed  that 
Tommy  was  tipsy  when  he  had  only  taken  what  he  called 


FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL.  283 

"  one  blessed  pint,"  chiefly  from  that  glorious  contentment 
with  himself  and  his  adverse  fortunes  which  is  not  usually 
characteristic  of  the  sober  Briton.  He  knocked  the  ashes  out 
of  his  pipe,  seized  his  paste-vessel  and  his  basket,  and  pre- 
pared to  start  with  a  satisfactory  promise  that  he  could  know 
what  he  was  about. 

The  landlord  and  some  others  had  confidently  concluded 
that  they  understood  all  about  Christian  now.  He  was  a 
Transome's  man,  come  to  see  after  the  bill-sticking  in  Tran- 
some's  interest.  The  landlord,  telling  his  yellow  wife  snap- 
pishly to  open  the  door  for  the  gentleman,  hoped  soon  to  see 
him  again. 

"  This  is  a  Transome's  house,  sir,"  he  observed,  "  in  respect 
of  entertaining  customers  of  that  color.  I  do  my  duty  as  a 
publican,  which,  if  I  know  it,  is  to  turn  back  no  genelman's 
money.  I  say,  give  every  genelman  a  chanch,  and  the  more 
the  merrier,  in  ParPment  and  out  of  it.  And  if  anybody  says 
they  want  but  two  ParPment  men,  I  say  it  'ud  be  better  for 
trade  if  there  was  six  of  'em,  and  voters  according." 

"Ay,  ay,"  said  Christian;  "you're  a  sensible  man, landlord. 
You  don't  mean  to  vote  for  Debarry,  then,  eh  ?  " 

"  Not  nohow,"  said  the  landlord,  thinking  that  where  nega- 
tives were  good  the  more  you  had  of  them  the  better. 

As  soon  as  the  door  had  closed  behind  Christian  and  his  new 
companion,  Tommy  said  — 

"  Now,  master,  if  you  're  to  be  my  lantern,  don't  you  be  a 
Jacky  Lantern,  which  I  take  to  mean  one  as  leads  you  the 
wrong  way.  For  I  '11  tell  you  what  —  if  you've  had  the  luck 
to  fall  in  wi'  Tommy  Trounsem,  don't  you  let  him  drop." 

"No,  no  —  to  be  sure  not,"  said  Christian.  "Come  along 
here.  We  '11  go  to  the  Back  Brewery  wall  first." 

"No,  no;  don't  you  let  me  drop.  Give  me  a  shilling  any 
day  you  like,  and  I  '11  tell  you  more  nor  you  '11  hear  from 
Spilkins  in  a  week.  There  isna  many  men  like  me.  I  carried 
pots  for  fifteen  year  off  and  on  —  what  do  you  think  o'  that 
now,  for  a  man  as  might  ha'  lived  up  there  at  Trounsem  Park, 
and  snared  his  own  game  ?  Which  I  'd  ha'  done,"  said  Tommy, 
wagging  his  head  at  Christian  in  the  dimness  undisturbed  by 


284  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL. 

gas.  "  None  o'  your  shooting  for  me  —  it 's  two  to  one  you  '11 
miss.  Snaring  's  more  fishing-like.  You  bait  your  hook, 
and  if  it  isna  the  fishes'  good-will  to  come,  that 's  nothing 
again'  the  sporting  genelman.  And  that 's  what  I  say  by 
snaring." 

"  But  if  you  'd  a  right  to  the  Transome  estate,  how  was  it 
you  were  kept  out  of  it,  old  boy  ?  It  was  some  foul  shame  or 
other,  eh  ?  " 

"  It 's  the  law  —  that 's  what  it  is.  You  're  a  good  sort  o' 
chap ;  I  don't  mind  telling  you.  There 's  folks  born  to  prop- 
erty, and  there  's  folks  catch  hold  on  it ;  and  the  law  's  made 
for  them  as  catch  hold.  I  'm  pretty  deep ;  I  see  a  good  deal 
further  than  Spilkins.  There  was  Ned  Patch,  the  pedler,  used 
to  say  to  me,  'You  canna  read,  Tommy,'  says  he.  'No ;  thank 
you,'  says  I ;  '  I  'm  not  going  to  crack  my  headpiece  to  make 
myself  as  big  a  fool  as  you.'  I  was  fond  o'  Ned.  Many 's  the 
pot  we  've  had  together." 

"  I  see  well  enough  you  're  deep,  Tommy.  How  came  you 
to  know  you  were  born  to  property  ?  " 

"It  was  the  regester  —  the  parish  regester,"  said  Tommy, 
with  his  knowing  wag  of  the  head,  "  that  shows  as  you  was 
born.  I  allays  felt  it  inside  me  as  I  was  somebody,  and  I 
could  see  other  chaps  thought  it  on  me  too ;  and  so  one  day 
at  Littleshaw,  where  I  kep  ferrits  and  a  little  bit  of  a  public, 
there  comes  a  fine  man  looking  after  me,  and  walking  me  up 
and  down  wi'  questions.  And  I  made  out  from  the  clerk  as 
he  'd  been  at  the  regester ;  and  I  gave  the  clerk  a  pot  or  two, 
and  he  got  it  off  our  parson  as  the  name  o'  Trounsem  was  a 
great  name  hereabout.  And  I  waits  a  bit  for  my  fine  man 
to  come  again.  Thinks  I,  if  there  's  property  wants  a  right 
owner,  I  shall  be  called  for  ;  for  I  did  n't  know  the  law  then. 
And  I  waited  and  waited,  till  I  see'd  no  fun  i'  waiting.  So 
I  parted  wi'  my  public  and  my  ferrets  —  for  she  was  dead 
a'ready,  my  wife  was,  and  I  had  n't  no  cumbrance.  And  off 
I  started  a  pretty  long  walk  to  this  country-side,  for  I  could 
walk  for  a  wager  in  them  days." 

"  Ah  !  well,  here  we  are  at  the  Back  Brewery  wall.  Put 
down  your  paste  and  your  basket  now,  old  boy,  and  I  '11  help 


FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL.  285 

you.  You  paste,  and  I'll  give  you  the  bills,  and  then  you 
can  go  on  talking." 

Tommy  obeyed  automatically,  for  he  was  now  carried  away 
by  the  rare  opportunity  of  talking  to  a  new  listener,  and  was 
only  eager  to  go  on  with  his  story.  As  soon  as  his  back  was 
turned,  and  he  was  stooping  over  his  paste-pot,  Christian,  with 
quick  adroitness,  exchanged  the  placards  in  his  own  bag  for 
those  in  Tommy's  basket.  Christian's  placards  had  not  been 
printed  at  Treby,  but  were  a  new  lot  which  had  been  sent 
from  Duffield  that  very  day  —  "  highly  spiced,"  Quorlen  had 
said,  "  coming  from  a  pen  that  was  up  to  that  sort  of  thing." 
Christian  had  read  the  first  of  the  sheaf,  and  supposed  they 
were  all  alike.  He  proceeded  to  hand  one  to  Tommy,  and 
said  — 

"Here,  old  boy,  paste  this  over  the  other.  And  so,  when 
you  got  into  this  country-side,  what  did  you  do  ?  " 

"  Do  ?  Why,  I  put  up  at  a  good  public  and  ordered  the 
best,  for  I  'd  a  bit  o'  money  in  my  pocket ;  and  I  axed  about, 
and  they  said  to  me,  if  it 's  Trounsem  business  you  're  after, 
you  go  to  Lawyer  Jermyn.  And  I  went ;  and  says  I,  going 
along,  he  's  maybe  the  fine  man  as  walked  me  up  and  down. 
But  no  such  thing.  I  '11  tell  you  what  Lawyer  Jermyn  was. 
He  stands  you  there,  and  holds  you  away  from  him  wi'  a  pole 
three  yard  long.  He  stares  at  you,  and  says  nothing,  till  you 
feel  like  a  Tomfool ;  and  then  he  threats  you  to  set  the  justice 
on  you ;  and  then  he  's  sorry  for  you,  and  hands  you  money, 
and  preaches  you  a  sarmint,  and  tells  you  you  're  a  poor  man, 
and  he  '11  give  you  a  bit  of  advice  —  and  you  'd  better  not 
be  meddling  wi'  things  belonging  to  the  law,  else  you'll  be 
catched  up  in  a  big  wheel  and  fly  to  bits.  And  I  went  of  a 
cold  sweat,  and  I  wished  I  might  never  come  i'  sight  o'  Lawyer 
Jermyn  again.  But  he  says,  if  you  keep  i'  this  neighbor- 
hood, behave  yourself  well,  and  I'll  pertect  you.  I  were  deep 
enough,  but  it 's  no  use  being  deep,  'cause  you  can  never  know 
the  law.  And  there  's  times  when  the  deepest  fellow  's  worst 
frightened." 

"  Yes,  yes.  There  !  Now  for  another  placard.  And  so  that 
was  all  ?  " 


286  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL. 

"  All  ?  "  said  Tommy,  turning  round  and  holding  the  paste* 
brush  in  suspense.  "  Don't  you  be  running  too  quick.  Thinks 
I,  '  I  '11  meddle  no  more.  I  've  got  a  bit  o'  money  —  I  '11  buy 
a  basket,  and  be  a  potman.  It 's  a  pleasant  life.  I  shall  live 
at  publics  and  see  the  world,  and  pick  up  'quaintauce,  and  get 
a  chanch  penny.'  But  when  I'd  turned  into  the  Ked  Lion, 
and  got  myself  warm  again  wi'  a  drop  o'  hot,  something  jumps 
into  my  head.  Thinks  I,  Tommy,  you  've  done  finely  for  your- 
self :  you  're  a  rat  as  has  broke  up  your  house  to  take  a  journey, 
and  show  yourself  to  a  ferret.  And  then  it  jumps  into  my 
head  :  I  'd  once  two  ferrets  as  turned  on  one  another,  and  the 
little  un  killed  the  big  un.  Says  I  to  the  landlady,  '  Missis, 
could  you  tell  me  of  a  lawyer,'  says  I,  '  not  very  big  or  fine, 
but  a  second  size  —  a  pig-potato,  like  ? '  '  That  I  can,'  says  she ; 
'  there  's  one  now  in  the  bar  parlor.'  ( Be  so  kind  as  bring  us 
together,'  says  I.  And  she  cries  out  —  I  think  I  hear  her  now 
—  '  Mr.  Johnson  ! '  And  what  do  you  think  ?  " 

At  this  crisis  in  Tommy's  story  the  gray  clouds,  which  had 
been  gradually  thinning,  opened  sufficiently  to  let  down  the 
sudden  moonlight,  and  show  his  poor  battered  old  figure  and 
face  in  the  attitude  and  with  the  expression  of  a  narrator 
sure  of  the  coming  effect  on  his  auditor ;  his  body  and  neck 
stretched  a  little  on  one  side,  and  his  paste-brush  held  out 
with  an  alarming  intention  of  tapping  Christian's  coat-sleeve 
at  the  right  moment.  Christian  started  to  a  safe  distance, 
and  said  — 

"  It 's  wonderful.     I  can't  tell  what  to  think." 

"  Then  never  do  you  deny  Old  Nick,"  said  Tommy,  with 
solemnity.  "I've  believed  in  him  more  ever  since.  Who 
Was  Johnson  ?  Why,  Johnson  was  the  fine  man  as  had 
Walked  me  up  and  down  with  questions.  And  I  out  with  it 
to  him  then  and  there.  And  he  speaks  me  civil,  and  says, 
1  Come  away  wi'  me,  my  good  fellow.'  And  he  told  me  a  deal 
o'  law.  And  he  says,  Whether  you  're  a  Tommy  Trounsem 
or  no,  it 's  no  good  to  you,  but  only  to  them  as  have  got  hold 
o'  the  property.  If  you  was  a  Tommy  Trounsem  twenty 
times  over,  it  'ud  be  no  good,  for  the  law 's  bought  you  out ; 
and  your  life  's  no  good,  only  to  them  as  have  catched  hold  o' 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  287 

the  property.  The  more  you  live,  the  more  they  '11  stick  in. 
iNot  as  they  want  you  now,  says  he  —  you  're  no  good  to  any- 
body, and  you  might  howl  like  a  dog  foriver,  and  the  law  'ud 
take  no  notice  on  you.  Says  Johnson,  I  'm  doing  a  kind  thing 
by  you,  to  tell  you.  For  that 's  the  law.  And  if  you  want 
to  know  the  law,  master,  you  ask  Johnson.  I  heard  'em  say 
after,  as  he  was  an  understrapper  at  Jermyn's.  I  've  never 
forgot  it  from  that  day  to  this.  But  I  saw  clear  enough,  as  if 
the  law  had  n't  been  again'  me,  the  Trounsem  estate  'ud  ha' 
been  mine.  But  folks  are  fools  hereabouts,  and  I  've  left  off 
talking.  The  more  you  tell  'em  the  truth,  the  more  they  '11 
niver  believe  you.  And  I  went  and  bought  my  basket  and  the 
pots,  and  —  " 

"  Come,  then,  fire  away,"  said  Christian.  "  Here  's  another 
placard." 

"  I  'm  getting  a  bit  dry,  master." 

"  Well,  then,  make  haste,  and  you  '11  have  something  to 
drink  all  the  sooner." 

Tommy  turned  to  his  work  again,  and  Christian,  continuing 
his  help,  said,  "  And  how  long  has  Mr.  Jermyn  been  employ- 
ing you  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no  particular  time  —  off  and  on  ;  but  a  week  or  two 
ago  he  sees  me  upo'  the  road,  and  speaks  to  me  uncommon 
civil,  and  tells  me  to  go  up  to  his  office,  and  he  '11  give  me 
employ.  And  I  was  noways  unwilling  to  stick  the  bills  to 
get  the  family  into  Parl'ment.  For  there  's  no  man  can  help 
the  law.  And  the  family  's  the  family,  whether  you  carry 
pots  or  no.  Master,  I  'm  uncommon  dry ;  my  head 's  a-turning 
round  ;  it 's  talking  so  long  on  end." 

The  unwonted  excitement  of  poor  Tommy's  memory  was 
producing  a  reaction. 

"  Well,  Tommy,"  said  Christian,  who  had  just  made  a  dis- 
covery among  the  placards  which  altered  the  bent  of  his 
thoughts,  "you  may  go  back  to  the  Cross-Keys  now,  if  you 
like  ;  here  's  a  half-crown  for  you  to  spend  handsomely.  I 
can't  go  back  there  myself  just  yet ;  but  you  may  give  my 
respects  to  Spilkins,  and  mind  you  paste  the  rest  of  the  bills 
early  to-morrow  morning." 


288  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  KADICAL. 

"  Ay,  ay.  But  don't  you  believe  too  much,  i'  Spilkins,"  said 
Tommy,  pocketing  the  half-crown,  and  showing  his  gratitude 
by  giving  this  advice  —  "  he  's  no  harm  much  —  but  weak. 
He  thinks  he 's  at  the  bottom  o'  things  because  he  scores  you 
up.  But  I  bear  him  no  ill-will.  Tommy  Trounsem  's  a  good 
chap  ;  and  any  day  you  like  to  give  me  half-a-crown,  I  '11  tell 
you  the  same  story  over  again.  Not  now  ;  I  'm  dry.  Come, 
help  me  up  wi'  these  things  ;  you  're  a  younger  chap  than  me. 
Well,  I  '11  tell  Spilkins  you  '11  come  again  another  day." 

The  moonlight,  which  had  lit  up  poor  Tommy's  oratorical 
attitude,  had  served  to  light  up  for  Christian  the  print  of  the 
placards.  He  had  expected  the  copies  to  be  various,  and  had 
turned  them  half  over  at  different  depths  of  the  sheaf  before 
drawing  out  those  he  offered  to  the  bill-sticker.  Suddenly  the 
clearer  light  had  shown  him  on  one  of  them  a  name  which 
was  just  then  especially  interesting  to  him,  and  all  the  more 
when  occurring  in  a  placard  intended  to  dissuade  the  electors 
of  North  Loamshire  from  voting  for  the  heir  of  the  Transomes. 
He  hastily  turned  over  the  bills  that  preceded  and  succeeded, 
that  he  might  draw  out  and  carry  away  all  of  this  pattern ; 
for  it  might  turn  out  to  be  wiser  for  him  not  to  contribute  to 
the  publicity  of  handbills  which  contained  allusions  to  Bycliffe 
versus  Transome.  There  were  about  a  dozen  of  them ;  he 
pressed  them  together  and  thrust  them  into  his  pocket,  re- 
turning all  the  rest  to  Tommy's  basket.  To  take  away  this 
dozen  might  not  be  to  prevent  similar  bills  from  being  posted 
up  elsewhere,  but  he  had  reason  to  believe  that  these  were  all 
of  the  same  kind  which  had  been  sent  to  Treby  from  Duffield. 

Christian's  interest  in  his  practical  joke  had  died  out  like  a 
morning  rushlight.  Apart  from  this  discovery  in  the  placards, 
old  Tommy's  story  had  some  indications  in  it  that  were  worth 
pondering  over.  Where  was  that  well-informed  Johnson  now  ? 
Was  he  still  an  understrapper  of  Jermyn's  ? 

With  this  matter  in  his  thoughts,  Christian  only  turned  in 
hastily  at  Quorlen's,  threw  down  the  black  bag  which  con- 
tained the  captured  Eadical  handbills,  said  he  had  done  the 
job,  and  hurried  back  to  the  Manor  that  he  might  study  his 
problem. 


FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL.  289 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

I  doe  believe  that,  as  the  gall  has  severall  receptacles  in  several  creatures, 
soe  there  's  scarce  any  creature  but  hath  that  emunctorye  somewhere.  —  SIR 
THOMAS  BROWNE. 

FANCY  what  a  game  at  chess  would  be  if  all  the  chessmen 
had  passions  and  intellects,  more  or  less  small  and  cunning :  if 
you  were  not  only  uncertain  about  your  adversary's  men,  but 
a  little  uncertain  also  about  your  own ;  if  your  knight  could 
shuffle  himself  on  to  a  new  square  by  the  sly ;  if  your  bishop, 
in  disgust  at  your  castling,  could  wheedle  your  pawns  out  of 
their  places ;  and  if  your  pawns,  hating  you  because  they  are 
pawns,  could  make  away  from  their  appointed  posts  that  you 
might  get  checkmate  on  a  sudden.  You  might  be  the  longest- 
headed  of  deductive  reasoners,  and  yet  you  might  be  beaten  by 
your  own  pawns.  You  would  be  especially  likely  to  be  beaten, 
if  you  depended  arrogantly  on  your  mathematical  imagination, 
and  regarded  your  passionate  pieces  with  contempt. 

Yet  this  imaginary  chess  is  easy  compared  with  the  game  a 
man  has  to  play  against  his  fellow-men  with  other  fellow-men 
for  his  instruments.  He  thinks  himself  sagacious,  perhaps, 
because  he  trusts  no  bond  except  that  of  self-interest ;  but  the 
only  self-interest  he  can  safely  rely  on  is  what  seems  to  be 
such  to  the  mind  he  would  use  or  govern.  Can  he  ever  be  sure 
of  knowing  this  ? 

Matthew  Jermyn  was  under  no  misgivings  as  to  the  fealty 
of  Johnson.  He  had  "  been  the  making  of  Johnson ; "  and 
this  seems  to  many  men  a  reason  for  expecting  devotion,  in 
spite  of  the  fact  that  they  themselves,  though  very  fond  of 
their  own  persons  and  lives,  are  not  at  all  devoted  to  the 
Maker  they  believe  in.  Johnson  was  a  most  serviceable  sub- 
ordinate. Being  a  man  who  aimed  at  respectability,  a  family 
man,  who  had  a  good  church-pew,  subscribed  for  engravings 
of  banquet  pictures  where  there  were  portraits  of  political 
celebrities,  and  wished  his  children  to  be  more  unquestionably 

VOL.    III.  19 


290  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL. 

genteel  than  their  father,  he  presented  all  the  more  numerous 
handles  of  worldly  motive  by  which  a  judicious  superior  might 
keep  a  hold  on  him.  But  this  useful  regard  to  respectability 
had  its  inconvenience  in  relation  to  such  a  superior :  it  was  a 
mark  of  some  vanity  and  some  pride,  which,  if  they  were  not 
touched  just  in  the  right  handling-place,  were  liable  to  become 
raw  and  sensitive.  Jermyn  was  aware  of  Johnson's  weak- 
nesses, and  thought  he  had  flattered  them  sufficiently.  But 
on  the  point  of  knowing  when  we  are  disagreeable,  our  human 
nature  is  fallible.  Our  lavender-water,  our  smiles,  our  com- 
pliments, and  other  polite  falsities,  are  constantly  offensive, 
when  in  the  very  nature  of  them  they  can  only  be  meant  to 
attract  admiration  and  regard.  Jermyn  had  often  been  un- 
consciously disagreeable  to  Johnson,  over  and  above  the  con- 
stant offence  of  being  an  ostentatious  patron.  He  would 
never  let  Johnson  dine  with  his  wife  and  daughters ;  he  would 
not  himself  dine  at  Johnson's  house  when  he  was  in  town. 
He  often  did  what  was  equivalent  to  pooh-poohing  his  conver- 
sation by  not  even  appearing  to  listen,  and  by  suddenly  cutting 
it  short  with  a  query  on  a  new  subject.  Jermyn  was  able  and 
politic  enough  to  have  commanded  a  great  deal  of  success  in 
his  life,  but  he  could  not  help  being  handsome,  arrogant,  fond 
of  being  heard,  indisposed  to  any  kind  of  comradeship,  amorous 
and  bland  towards  women,  cold  and  self-contained  towards 
men.  You  will  hear  very  strong  denials  that  an  attorney's 
being  handsome  could  enter  into  the  dislike  he  excited ;  but 
conversation  consists  a  good  deal  in  the  denial  of  what  is  true. 
From  the  British  point  of  view  masculine  beauty  is  regarded 
very  much  as  it  is  in  the  drapery  business :  —  as  good  solely 
for  the  fancy  department  —  for  young  noblemen,  artists,  poets, 
and  the  clergy.  Some  one  who,  like  Mr.  Lingon,  was  dis- 
posed to  revile  Jermyn  (perhaps  it  was  Sir  Maximus),  had 
called  him  "  a  cursed,  sleek,  handsome,  long-winded,  over- 
bearing sycophant ; "  epithets  which  expressed,  rather  con- 
fusedly, the  mingled  character  of  the  dislike  he  excited.  And 
serviceable  John  Johnson,  himself  sleek,  and  mindful  about 
his  broadcloth  and  his  cambric  fronts,  had  what  he  considered 
"spirit"  enough  within  him  to  feel  that  dislike  of  Jermyn 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  291 

gradually  gathering  force  through  years  of  obligation  and 
subjection,  till  it  had  become  an  actuating  motive  disposed  to 
use  an  opportunity,  if  not  to  watch  for  one. 

It  was  not  this  motive,  however,  but  rather  the  ordinary 
course  of  business,  which  accounted  for  Johnson's  playing  a 
double  part  as  an  electioneering  agent.  What  men  do  in  elec- 
tions is  not  to  be  classed  either  among  sins  or  marks  of  grace  : 
it  would  be  profane  to  include  business  in  religion,  and  con- 
science refers  to  failure,  not  to  success.  Still,  the  sense  of 
being  galled  by  Jermyn's  harness  was  an  additional  reason 
for  cultivating  all  relations  that  were  independent  of  him; 
and  pique  at  Harold  Transome's  behavior  to  him  in  Jermyn's 
office  perhaps  gave  all  the  more  zest  to  Johnson's  use  of  his 
pen  and  ink  when  he  wrote  a  handbill  in  the  service  of  Gars- 
tin,  and  Garstin's  incomparable  agent,  Putty,  full  of  innuen- 
does against  Harold  Transome,  as  a  descendant  of  the  Durfey- 
Transomes.  It  is  a  natural  subject  of  self-congratulation  to  a 
man,  when  special  knowledge,  gained  long  ago  without  any 
forecast,  turns  out  to  afford  a  special  inspiration  in  the  pres- 
ent ;  and  Johnson  felt  a  new  pleasure  in  the  consciousness 
that  he  of  all  people  in  the  world  next  to  Jermyn  had  the 
most  intimate  knowledge  of  the  Transome  affairs.  Still  better 
—  some  of  these  affairs  were  secrets  of  Jermyn's.  If  in  an 
uncomplimentary  spirit  he  might  have  been  called  Jermyn's 
"man  of  straw,"  it  was  a  satisfaction  to  know  that  the  un- 
reality of  the  man  John  Johnson  was  confined  to  his  appear- 
ance in  annuity  deeds,  and  that  elsewhere  he  was  solid, 
locomotive,  and  capable  of  remembering  anything  for  his  own 
pleasure  and  benefit.  To  act  with  doubleness  towards  a  man 
whose  own  conduct  was  double,  was  so  near  an  approach  to 
virtue  that  it  deserved  to  be  called  by  no  meaner  name  than 
Diplomacy. 

By  such  causes  it  came  to  pass  that  Christian  held  in  his 
hands  a  bill  in  which  Jermyn  was  playfully  alluded  to  as  Mr. 
German  Cozen,  who  won  games  by  clever  shuffling  and  odd 
tricks  without  any  honor,  and  backed  Durfey's  crib  against 
Bycliffe,  —  in  which  it  was  adroitly  implied  that  the  so-called 
head  of  the  Transomes  was  only  the  tail  of  the  Durfeys,  — 


292  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL. 

and  that  some  said  the  Durfeys  would  have  died  out  and  left 
their  nest  empty  if  it  had  not  been  for  their  German  Cozen. 

Johnson  had  not  dared  to  use  any  recollections  except  such 
as  might  credibly  exist  in  other  minds  besides  his  own.  In 
the  truth  of  the  case,  no  one  but  himself  had  the  prompting 
to  recall  these  outworn  scandals ;  but  it  was  likely  enough 
that  such  foul-winged  things  should  be  revived  by  election 
heats  for  Johnson  to  escape  all  suspicion. 

Christian  could  gather  only  dim  and  uncertain  inferences 
from  this  flat  irony  and  heavy  joking ;  but  one  chief  thing 
was  clear  to  him.  He  had  been  right  in  his  conjecture  that 
Jermyn's  interest  about  Bycliffe  had  its  source  in  some  claim 
of  Bycliffe's  on  the  Transonic  property.  And  then,  there  was 
that  story  of  the  old  bill-sticker's,  which,  closely  considered, 
indicated  that  the  right  of  the  present  Transomes  depended, 
or  at  least  had  depended,  on  the  continuance  of  some  other 
lives.  Christian  in  his  time  had  gathered  enough  legal 
notions  to  be  aware  that  possession  by  one  man  sometimes 
depended  on  the  life  of  another ;  that  a  man  might  sell  his 
own  interest  in  property,  and  the  interest  'of  his  descendants, 
while  a  claim  on  that  property  would  still  remain  to  some  one 
else  than  the  purchaser,  supposing  the  descendants  became 
extinct,  and  the  interest  they  had  sold  were  at  an  end.  But 
under  what  conditions  the  claim  might  be  valid  or  void  in  any 
particular  case,  was  all  darkness  to  him.  Suppose  Bycliffe 
had  any  such  claim  on  the  Transome  estates  :  how  was  Chris- 
tian to  know  whether  at  the  present  moment  it  was  worth 
anything  more  than  a  bit  of  rotten  parchment  ?  Old  Tommy 
Trounsem  had  said  that  Johnson  knew  all  about  it.  But  even 
if  Johnson  were  still  above  ground  —  and  all  Johnsons  are 
mortal  —  he  might  still  be  an  understrapper  of  Jermyn's,  in 
which  case  his  knowledge  would  be  on  the  wrong  side  of  the 
hedge  for  the  purposes  of  Henry  Scaddon.  His  immediate 
care  must  be  to  find  out  all  he  could  about  Johnson.  He 
blamed  himself  for  not  having  questioned  Tommy  further 
while  he  had  him  at  command ;  but  on  this  head  the  bill- 
sticker  could  hardly  know  more  than  the  less  dilapidated 
denizens  of  Treby. 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  293 

Now  it  had  happened  that  during  the  weeks  in  which 
Christian  had  been  at  work  in  trying  to  solve  the  enigma  of 
Jermyn's  interest  about  Bycliffe,  Johnson's  mind  also  had 
been  somewhat  occupied  with  suspicion  and  conjecture  as  to 
new  information  on  the  subject  of  the  old  Bycliffe  claims 
which  Jermyn  intended  to  conceal  from  him.  The  letter 
which,  after  his  interview  with  Christian,  Jermyn  had  written 
with  a  sense  of  perfect  safety  to  his  faithful  ally  Johnson, 
was,  as  we  know,  written  to  a  Johnson  who  had  found  his 
self-love  incompatible  with  that  faithfulness  of  which  it  was 
supposed  to  be  the  foundation.  Anything  that  the  patron  felt 
it  inconvenient  for  his  obliged  friend  and  servant  to  know, 
became  by  that  very  fact  an  object  of  peculiar  curiosity.  The 
obliged  friend  and  servant  secretly  doated  on  his  patron's  in- 
convenience, provided  that  he  himself  did  not  share  it;  and 
conjecture  naturally  became  active. 

Johnson's  legal  imagination,  being  very  differently  furnished 
from  Christian's,  was  at  no  loss  to  conceive  conditions  under 
which  there  might  arise  a  new  claim  on  the  Transome  estates. 
He  had  before  him  the  whole  history  of  the  settlement  of  those 
estates  made  a  hundred  years  ago  by  John  Justus  Transome, 
entailing  them,  whilst  in  his  possession,  on  his  son  Thomas 
and  his  beirs-male,  with  remainder  to  the  Bycliffes  in  fee.  He 
knew  that  Thomas,  son  of  John  Justus,  proving  a  prodigal,  had, 
without  the  knowledge  of  his  father,  the  tenant  in  possession, 
sold  his  own  and  his  descendants'  rights  to  a  lawyer-cousin 
named  Durfey ;  that,  therefore,  the  title  of  the  Durfey-Tran- 
somes,  in  spite  of  that  old  Durfey's  tricks  to  show  the  contrary, 
depended  solely  on  the  purchase  of  the  "  base  fee  "  thus  created 
by  Thomas  Transome  ;  and  that  the  Bycliffes  were  the  "  re- 
mainder-men "  who  might  fairly  oust  the  Durfey-Transomes 
if  ever  the  issue  of  the  prodigal  Thomas  went  clean  out  of 
existence,  and  ceased  to  represent  a  right  which  he  had  bar- 
gained away  from  them. 

Johnson,  as  Jermyn's  subordinate,  had  been  closely  cognizant 
of  the  details  concerning  the  suit  instituted  by  successive 
Bycliffes,  of  whom  Maurice  Christian  Bycliffe  was  the  last, 
on  the  plea  that  the  extinction  of  Thomas  Transome's  line  had 


294  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL. 

actually  come  to  pass — a  weary  suit,  which  had  eaten  into 
the  fortunes  of  two  families,  and  had  only  made  the  canker- 
worms  fat.  The  suit  had  closed  with  the  death  of  Maurice 
Christian  Bycliffe  in  prison ;  but  before  his  death,  Jermyn's 
exertions  to  get  evidence  that  there  was  still  issue  of  Thomas 
Transome's  line  surviving,  as  a  security  of  the  Durfey  title, 
had  issued  in  the  discovery  of  a  Thomas  Transome  at  Little- 
shaw,  in  Stonyshire,  who  was  the  representative  of  a  pawned 
inheritance.  The  death  of  Maurice  had  made  this  discovery 
useless  —  had  made  it  seem  the  wiser  part  to  say  nothing 
about  it ;  and  the  fact  had  remained  a  secret  known  only  to 
Jermyn  and  Johnson.  No  other  Bycliffe  was  known  or  be- 
lieved to  exist,  and  the  Durfey-Transomes  might  be  considered 
safe,  unless  —  yes,  there  was  an  "unless"  which  Johnson  could 
conceive  :  an  heir  or  heiress  of  the  Bycliffes  —  if  such  a  per- 
sonage turned  out  to  be  in  existence  —  might  some  time  raise 
a  new  and  valid  claim  when  once  informed  that  wretched  old 
Tommy  Trounsein  the  bill-sticker,  tottering  drunkenly  on  the 
edge  of  the  grave,  was  the  last  issue  remaining  above  ground 
from  that  dissolute  Thomas  who  played  his  Esau  part  a  century 
before.  While  the  poor  old  bill-sticker  breathed,  the  Durfey- 
Transomes  could  legally  keep  their  possession  in  spite  of  a 
possible  Bycliffe  proved  real;  but  not  when  the  parish  had 
buried  the  bill-sticker. 

Still,  it  is  one  thing  to  conceive  conditions,  and  another  to 
see  any  chance  of  proving  their  existence.  Johnson  at  present 
had  no  glimpse  of  such  a  chance  ;  and  even  if  he  ever  gained 
the  glimpse,  he  was  not  sure  that  he  should  ever  make  any  use 
of  it.  His  inquiries  of  Medwin,  in  obedience  to  Jermyn's 
letter,  had  extracted  only  a  negative  as  to  any  information 
possessed  by  the  lawyers  of  Bycliffe  concerning  a  marriage,  or 
expectation  of  offspring  on  his  part.  But  Johnson  felt  not 
the  less  stung  by  curiosity  to  know  what  Jermyn  had  found 
out :  that  he  had  found  something  in  relation  to  a  possible 
Bycliffe,  Johnson  felt  pretty  sure.  And  he  thought  with  sat- 
isfaction that  Jermyn  could  not  hinder  him  from  knowing 
what  he  already  knew  about  Thomas  Transome's  issue.  Many 
things  might  occur  to  alter  his  policy  and  give  a  new  value 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  295 

to  facts.  Was  it  certain  that  Jermyn  would  always  be 
fortunate  ? 

When  greed  and  unscrupulousness  exhibit  themselves  on  a 
grand  historical  scale,  and  there  is  question  of  peace  or  war  or 
amicable  partition,  it  often  occurs  that  gentlemen  of  high  diplo- 
matic talents  have  their  minds  bent  on  the  same  object  from 
different  points  of  view.  Each,  perhaps,  is  thinking  of  a  cer- 
tain duchy  or  province,  with  a  view  to  arranging  the  ownership 
in  such  a  way  as  shall  best  serve  the  purposes  of  the  gentleman 
with  high  diplomatic  talents  in  whom  each  is  more  especially 
interested.  But  these  select  minds  in  high  office  can  never 
miss  their  aims  from  ignorance  of  each  other's  existence  or 
whereabouts.  Their  high  titles  may  be  learned  even  by  com- 
mon people  from  every  pocket  almanac. 

But  with  meaner  diplomatists,  who  might  be  mutually  use- 
ful, such  ignorance  is  often  obstructive.  Mr.  John  Johnson 
and  Mr.  Christian,  otherwise  Henry  Scaddon,  might  have  had 
a  concentration  of  purpose  and  an  ingenuity  of  device  fitting 
them  to  make  a  figure  in  the  parcelling  of  Europe,  and  yet 
they  might  never  have  met,  simply  because  Johnson  knew 
nothing  of  Christian,  and  because  Christian  did  not  know 
where  to  find  Johnson. 


CHAPTER  XXX. 


His  nature  is  too  noble  for  the  world : 

He  would  not  flatter  Neptune  for  his  trident, 

Or  Jove  for  his  power  to  thunder.     His  heart's  his  month; 

What  his  breast  forges,  that  his  tongue  must  vent ; 

And,  being  angry,  doth  forget  that  ever 

He  heard  the  name  of  death.  —  Coriolanus. 


CHRISTIAN*  and  Johnson  did  meet,  however,  by  means  that 
were  quite  incalculable.  The  incident  which  brought  them 
into  communication  was  due  to  Felix  Holt,  who  of  all  men  in 


296  FELIX  HOLT,   THE   RADICAL. 

the  world  had  the  least  affinity  either  for  the  industrious  or 
the  idle  parasite. 

Mr.  Lyon  had  urged  Felix  to  go  to  Duffield  on  the  15th  of 
December,  to  witness  the  nomination  of  the  candidates  for 
North  Loamshire.  The  minister  wished  to  hear  what  took 
place  ;  and  the  pleasure  of  gratifying  him  helped  to  outweigh 
some  opposing  reasons. 

"I  shall  get  into  a  rage  at  something  or  other,"  Felix  had 
said.  "  I  've  told  you  one  of  my  weak  points.  Where  I  have 
any  particular  business,  I  must  incur  the  risks  my  nature 
brings.  But  I  've  no  particular  business  at  Duffield.  How- 
ever, I  '11  make  a  holiday  and  go.  By  dint  of  seeing  folly,  I 
shall  get  lessons  in  patience." 

The  weak  point  to  which  Felix  referred  was  his  liability  to 
be  carried  completely  out  of  his  own  mastery  by  indignant 
anger.  His  strong  health,  his  renunciation  of  selfish  claims, 
his  habitual  preoccupation  with  large  thoughts  and  with  pur- 
poses independent  of  every-day  casualties,  secured  him  a  fine 
and  even  temper,  free  from  moodiness  or  irritability.  He  was 
full  of  long-suffering  towards  his  unwise  mother,  who  "  pressed 
him  daily  with  her  words  and  urged  him,  so  that  his  soul  was 
vexed ; "  he  had  chosen  to  fill  his  days  in  a  way  that  required 
the  utmost  exertion  of  patience,  that  required  those  little  rill- 
like  outflo wings  of  goodness  which  in  minds  of  great  energy 
must  be  fed  from  deep  sources  of  thought  and  passionate 
devotedness.  In  this  way  his  energies  served  to  make  him 
gentle  ;  and  now,  in  this  twenty-sixth  year  of  his  life,  they 
had  ceased  to  make  him  angry,  except  in  the  presence  of  some- 
thing that  roused  his  deep  indignation.  When  once  exasper- 
ated, the  passionateness  of  his  nature  threw  off  the  yoke  of  a 
long-trained  consciousness  in  which  thought  and  emotion  had 
been  more  and  more  completely  mingled,  and  concentrated  it- 
self in  a  rage  as  ungovernable  as  that  of  boyhood.  He  was 
thoroughly  aware  of  the  liability,  and  knew  that  in  such  cir- 
cumstances he  could  not  answer  for  himself.  Sensitive  people 
with  feeble  frames  have  often  the  same  sort  of  fury  within 
them  ;  but  they  are  themselves  shattered,  and  shatter  nothing. 
Felix  had  a  terrible  arm  :  he  knew  that  he  was  dangerous ;  and 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  297 

he  avoided  the  conditions  that  might  cause  him  exasperation, 
as  he  would  have  avoided  intoxicating  drinks  if  he  had  been 
in  danger  of  intemperance. 

The  nomination-day  was  a  great  epoch  of  successful  trickery, 
or,  to  speak  in  a  more  parliamentary  manner,  of  war-stratagem, 
on  the  part  of  skilful  agents.  And  Mr.  Johnson  had  his 
share  of  inward  chuckling  and  self -approval,  as  one  who  might 
justly  expect  increasing  renown,  and  be  some  day  in  as  gen- 
eral request  as  the  great  Putty  himself.  To  have  the  pleasure 
and  the  praise  of  electioneering  ingenuity,  and  also  to  get  paid 
for  it,  without  too  much  anxiety  whether  the  ingenuity  will 
achieve  its  ultimate  end,  perhaps  gives  to  some  select  persons 
a  sort  of  satisfaction  in  their  superiority  to  their  more  agitated 
fellow-men  that  is  worthy  to  be  classed  with  those  generous 
enjoyments  of  having  the  truth  chiefly  to  yourself,  and  of  see- 
ing others  in  danger  of  drowning  while  you  are  high  and  dry, 
which  seem  to  have  been  regarded  as  unmixed  privileges  by 
Lucretius  and  Lord  Bacon. 

One  of  Mr.  Johnson's  great  successes  was  this.  Spratt,  the 
hated  manager  of  the  Sproxton  Colliery,  in  careless  confi- 
dence that  the  colliers  and  other  laborers  under  him  would 
follow  his  orders,  had  provided  carts  to  carry  some  loads 
of  voteless  enthusiasm  to  Duffield  on  behalf  of  Garstin ; 
enthusiasm  which,  being  already  paid  for  by  the  recognized 
benefit  of  Garstin's  existence  as  a  capitalist  with  a  share  in 
the  Sproxton  mines,  was  not  to  cost  much  in  the  form  of 
treating.  A  capitalist  was  held  worthy  of  pious  honor  as  the 
cause  why  working  men  existed.  But  Mr.  Spratt  did  not 
sufficiently  consider  that  a  cause  which  has  to  be  proved  by 
argument  or  testimony  is  not  an  object  of  passionate  devotion 
to  colliers :  a  visible  cause  of  beer  acts  on  them  much  more 
strongly.  And  even  if  there  had  been  any  love  of  the  far-off 
Garstin,  hatred  of  the  too-immediate  Spratt  would  have  been 
the  stronger  motive.  Hence  Johnson's  calculations,  made  long 
ago  with  Chubb,  the  remarkable  publican,  had  been  well 
founded,  and  there  had  been  diligent  care  to  supply  treating 
at  Duffield  in  the  name  of  Transome.  After  the  election  was 
over,  it  was  not  improbable  that  there  would  be  much  friendly 


298  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL. 

joking  between  Putty  and  Johnson  as  to  the  success  of  this 
trick  against  Putty's  employer,  and  Johnson  would  be  con- 
scious of  rising  in  the  opinion  of  his  celebrated  senior. 

For  the  show  of  hands  and  the  cheering,  the  hustling  and  the 
pelting,  the  roaring  and  the  hissing,  the  hard  hits  with  small 
missiles,  and  the  soft  hits  with  small  jokes,  were  strong  enough 
on  the  side  of  Transome  to  balance  the  similar  "  demonstra- 
tions "  for  Garstin,  even  with  the  Debarry  interest  in  his  favor. 
And  the  inconvenient  presence  of  Spratt  was  early  got  rid  of  by 
a  dexterously  managed  accident,  which  sent  him  bruised  and 
limping  from  the  scene  of  action.  Mr.  Chubb  had  never  before 
felt  so  thoroughly  that  the  occasion  was  up  to  a  level  with  his  tal- 
ents, while  the  clear  daylight  in  which  his  virtue  would  appear 
when  at  the  election  he  voted,  as  his  duty  to  himself  bound  him, 
for  Garstin  only,  gave  him  thorough  repose  of  conscience. 

Felix  Holt  was  the  only  person  looking  on  at  the  senseless 
exhibitions  of  this  nomination-day,  who  knew  from  the  begin- 
ning the  history  of  the  trick  with  the  Sproxton  men.  He  had 
been  aware  all  along  that  the  treating  at  Chubb's  had  been 
continued,  and  that  so  far  Harold  Transome's  promise  had 
produced  no  good  fruits ;  and  what  he  was  observing  to-day, 
as  he  watched  the  uproarious  crowd,  convinced  him  that  the 
whole  scheme  would  be  carried  out  just  as  if  he  had  never 
spoken  about  it.  He  could  be  fair  enough  to  Transome  to 
allow  that  he  might  have  wished,  and  yet  have  been  unable, 
with  his  notions  of  success,  to  keep  his  promise ;  and  his  bit- 
terness towards  the  candidate  only  took  the  form  of  contempt- 
uous pity  ;  for  Felix  was  not  sparing  in  his  contempt  for  men 
who  put  their  inward  honor  in  pawn  by  seeking  the  prizes  of 
the  world.  His  scorn  fell  too  readily  on  the  fortunate.  But 
when  he  saw  Johnson  passing  to  and  fro,  and  speaking  to  Jer- 
myn  on  the  hustings,  he  felt  himself  getting  angry,  and  jumped 
off  the  wheel  of  the  stationary  cart  on  which  he  was  mounted, 
that  he  might  no  longer  be  in  sight  of  this  man,  whose  vitiat- 
ing cant  had  made  his  blood  hot  and  his  fingers  tingle  on  the 
first  day  of  encountering  him  at  Sproxton.  It  was  a  little  too 
exasperating  to  look  at  this  pink-faced  rotund  specimen  of 
prosperity,  to  witness  the  power  for  evil  that  lay  in  his  vulgar 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  299 

cant,  backed  by  another  man's  money,  and  to  know  that  such 
stupid  iniquity  nourished  the  flags  of  Reform,  and  Liberalism, 
and  justice  to  the  needy.  While  the  roaring  and  the  scuffling 
were  still  going  on,  Felix,  with  his  thick  stick  in  his  hand, 
made  his  way  through  the  crowd,  and  walked  on  through  the 
Duffield  streets,  till  he  came  out  on  a  grassy  suburb,  where  the 
houses  surrounded  a  small  common.  Here  he  walked  about 
in  the  breezy  air,  and  ate  his  bread  and  apples,  telling  himself 
that  this  angry  haste  of  his  about  evils  that  could  only  be 
remedied  slowly,  could  be  nothing  else  than  obstructive,  and 
might  some  day  —  he  saw  it  so  clearly  that  the  thought  seemed 
like  a  presentiment  —  be  obstructive  of  his  own  work. 

"  Not  to  waste  energy,  to  apply  force  where  it  would  tell, 
to  do  small  work  close  at  hand,  not  waiting  for  speculative 
chances  of  heroism,  but  preparing  for  them  "  — these  were  the 
rules  he  had  been  constantly  urging  on  himself.  But  what 
could  be  a  greater  waste  than  to  beat  a  scoundrel  who  had  law 
and  opodeldoc  at  command  ?  After  this  meditation,  Felix  felt 
cool  and  wise  enough  to  return  into  the  town,  not,  however, 
intending  to  deny  himself  the  satisfaction  of  a  few  pungent 
words  wherever  there  was  place  for  them.  Blows  are  sar- 
casms turned  stupid :  wit  is  a  form  of  force  that  leaves  the 
limbs  at  rest. 

Anything  that  could  be  called  a  crowd  was  no  longer  to  be 
seen.  The  show  of  hands  having  been  pronounced  to  be  in 
favor  of  Debarry  and  Transome,  and  a  poll  having  been  de- 
manded for  Garstin,  the  business  of  the  day  might  be  consid- 
ered at  an  end.  But  in  the  street  where  the  hustings  were 
erected,  and  where  the  great  hotels  stood,  there  were  many 
groups,  as  well  as  strollers  and  steady  walkers  to  and  fro. 
Men  in  superior  great-coats  and  well-brushed  hats  were  await- 
ing with  more  or  less  impatience  an  important  dinner,  either 
at  the  Crown,  which  was  Debarry's  house,  or  at  the  Three 
Cranes,  which  was  Gars  tin's,  or  at  the  Fox  and  Hounds,  which 
was  Transome's.  Knots  of  sober  retailers,  who  had  already 
dined,  were  to  be  seen  at  some  shop-doors  ;  men  in  very  shabby 
coats  and  miscellaneous  head-coverings,  inhabitants  of  Duffield 
and  not  county  voters,  were  lounging  about  in  dull  silence,  or 


300  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL. 

listening,  some  to  a  grimy  man  in  a  flannel  shirt,  hatless  and 
with  turbid  red  hair,  who  was  insisting  on  political  points  with 
much  more  ease  than  had  seemed  to  belong  to  the  gentlemen 
speakers  on  the  hustings,  and  others  to  a  Scotch  vendor  of 
articles  useful  to  sell,  whose  unfamiliar  accent  seemed  to  have 
a  guarantee  of  truth  in  it  wanting  as  an  association  with  every- 
day English.  Some  rough-looking  pipe-smokers,  or  distin- 
guished cigar-smokers,  chose  to  walk  up  and  down  in  isolation 
and  silence.  But  the  majority  of  those  who  had  shown  a  burn- 
ing interest  in  the  nomination  had  disappeared,  and  cockades 
no  longer  studded  a  close-pressed  crowd,  like,  and  also  very 
unlike,  meadow  flowers  among  the  grass.  The  street  pavement 
was  strangely  painted  with  fragments  of  perishable  missiles 
ground  flat  under  heavy  feet :  but  the  workers  were  resting 
from  their  toil,  and  the  buzz  and  tread  and  the  fitfully  dis- 
cernible voices  seemed  like  stillness  to  Felix  after  the  roar 
with  which  the  wide  space  had  been  filled  when  he  left  it. 

The  group  round  the  speaker  in  the  flannel  shirt  stood  at 
the  corner  of  a  side-street,  and  the  speaker  himself  was  ele- 
vated by  the  head  and  shoulders  above  his  hearers,  not  because 
he  was  tall,  but  because  he  stood  on  a  projecting  stone.  At 
the  opposite  corner  of  the  turning  was  the  great  inn  of  the 
Fox  and  Hounds,  and  this  was  the  ultra-Liberal  quarter  of  the 
High  Street.  Felix  was  at  once  attracted  by  this  group  ;  he  liked 
the  look  of  the  speaker,  whose  bare  arms  were  powerfully 
muscular,  though  he  had  the  pallid  complexion  of  a  man  who 
lives  chiefly  amidst  the  heat  of  furnaces.  He  was  leaning 
against  the  dark  stone  building  behind  him  with  folded  arms, 
the  grimy  paleness  of  his  shirt  and  skin  standing  out  in  high 
relief  against  the  dark  stone  building  behind  him.  He  lifted 
up  one  fore-finger,  and  marked  his  emphasis  with  it  as  he 
spoke.  His  voice  was  high  and  not  strong,  but  Felix  recog- 
nized the  fluency  and  the  method  of  a  habitual  preacher  or 
lecturer. 

"  It 's  the  fallacy  of  all  monopolists,"  he  was  saying.  "  We 
know  what  monopolists  are  :  men  who  want  to  keep  a  trade 
all  to  themselves,  under  the  pretence  that  they'll  furnish  the 
public  with  a  better  article.  We  know  what  that  comes  to  : 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  301 

in  some  countries  a  poor  man  can't  afford  to  buy  a  spoonful 
of  salt,  and  yet  there  's  salt  enough  in  the  world  to  pickle 
every  living  thing  in  it.  That 's  the  sort  of  benefit  monopo- 
lists do  to  mankind.  And  these  are  the  men  who  tell  us 
we  're  to  let  politics  alone  ;  they  '11  govern  us  better  without 
our  knowing  anything  about  it.  We  must  mind  our  business  ; 
we  are  ignorant ;  we  've  no  time  to  study  great  questions. 
But  I  tell  them  this  :  the  greatest  question  in  the  world 
is,  how  to  give  every  man  a  man's  share  in  what  goes  on  in 
life  —  " 

"  Hear,  hear ! "  said  Felix  in  his  sonorous  voice,  which 
seemed  to  give  a  new  impressiveness  to  what  the  speaker  had 
said.  Every  one  looked  at  him :  the  well-washed  face  and  its 
educated  expression  along  with  a  dress  more  careless  than  that 
of  most  well-to-do  workmen  on  a  holiday,  made  his  appearance 
strangely  arresting. 

"Not  a  pig's  share,"  the  speaker  went  on,  "not  a  horse's 
share,  not  the  share  of  a  machine  fed  with  oil  only  to  make  it 
work  and  nothing  else.  It  is  n't  a  man's  share  just  to  mind 
your  pin-making,  or  your  glass-blowing,  and  higgle  about  your 
own  wages,  and  bring  up  your  family  to  be  ignorant  sons  of 
ignorant  fathers,  and  no  better  prospect ;  that 's  a  slave's  share ; 
we  want  a  freeman's  share,  and  that  is  to  think  and  speak  and 
act  about  what  concerns  us  all,  and  see  whether  these  fine 
gentlemen  who  undertake  to  govern  us  are  doing  the  best 
they  can  for  us.  They  've  got  the  knowledge,  say  they.  Very 
well,  we've  got  the  wants.  There's  many  a  one  would  be 
idle  if  hunger  did  n't  pinch  him ;  but  the  stomach  sets  us  to 
work.  There 's  a  fable  told  where  the  nobles  are  the  belly  and 
the  people  the  members.  But  I  make  another  sort  of  fable.  I 
say  we  are  the  belly  that  feels  the  pinches,  and  we  '11  set  these 
aristocrats,  these  great  people  who  call  themselves  our  brains, 
to  work  at  some  way  of  satisfying  us  a  bit  better.  The  aristo- 
crats are  pretty  sure  to  try  and  govern  for  their  own  benefit ; 
but  how  are  we  to  be  sure  they  '11  try  and  govern  for  ours  ? 
They  must  be  looked  after,  I  think,  like  other  workmen.  We 
must  have  what  we  call  inspectors,  to  see  whether  the  work 's 
well  done  for  us.  We  want  to  send  our  inspectors  to  Parlia- 


302  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL. 

ment.  Well,  they  say  —  you  've  got  the  Reform  Bill ;  what 
more  can  you  want  ?  Send  your  inspectors.  But  I  say,  the 
Reform  Bill  is  a  trick  —  it 's  nothing  but  swearing-in  special 
constables  to  keep  the  aristocrats  safe  in  their  monopoly ;  it 's 
bribing  some  of  the  people  with  votes  to  make  them  hold  their 
tongues  about  giving  votes  to  the  rest.  I  say,  if  a  man  does  n't 
beg  or  steal,  but  works  for  his  bread,  the  poorer  and  the  more 
miserable  he  is,  the  more  he  'd  need  have  a  vote  to  send  an  in- 
spector to  Parliament  —  else  the  man  who  is  worst  off  is  likely 
to  be  forgotten ;  and  I  say,  he  's  the  man  who  ought  to  be  first 
remembered.  Else  what  does  their  religion  mean  ?  Why  do 
they  build  churches  and  endow  them  that  their  sons  may  get 
paid  well  for  preaching  a  Saviour,  and  making  themselves  as 
little  like  Him  as  can  be  ?  If  I  want  to  believe  in  Jesus 
Christ,  I  must  shut  my  eyes  for  fear  I  should  see  a  parson. 
And  what 's  a  bishop  ?  A  bishop 's  a  parson  dressed  up,  who 
sits  in  the  House  of  Lords  to  help  and  throw  out  Reform  Bills. 
And  because  it 's  hard  to  get  anything  in  the  shape  of  a  man 
to  dress  himself  up  like  that,  and  do  such  work,  they  give  him 
a  palace  for  it,  and  plenty  of  thousands  a-year.  And  then 
they  cry  out  — '  The  Church  is  in  danger,'  —  '  the  poor  man's 
Church.'  And  why  is  it  the  poor  man's  Church  ?  Because 
he  can  have  a  seat  for  nothing.  I  think  it  is  for  nothing ;  for 
it  would  be  hard  to  tell  what  he  gets  by  it.  If  the  poor  man 
had  a  vote  in  the  matter,  I  think  he  'd  choose  a  different  sort 
of  a  Church  to  what  that  is.  But  do  you  think  the  aristocrats 
will  ever  alter  it,  if  the  belly  does  n't  pinch  them  ?  Not  they. 
It 's  part  of  their  monopoly.  They  '11  supply  us  with  our  re- 
ligion like  everything  else,  and  get  a  profit  on  it.  They  '11  give 
us  plenty  of  heaven.  We  may  have  land  there.  That 's  the 
sort  of  religion  they  like  —  a  religion  that  gives  us  working 
men  heaven,  and  nothing  else.  But  we  '11  offer  to  change  with 
'era.  We  '11  give  them  back  some  of  their  heaven,  and  take  it 
out  in  something  for  us  and  our  children  in  this  world.  They 
don't  seem  to  care  so  much  about  heaven  themselves  till  they 
feel  the  gout  very  bad  ;  but  you  won't  get  them  to  give  up  any- 
thing else,  if  you  don't  pinch  'em  for  it.  And  to  pinch  them 
enough,  we  must  get  the  suffrage,  we  must  get  votes,  that  we 


FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL.  303 

may  send  the  men  to  Parliament  who  will  do  our  work  for  us ; 
and  we  must  have  Parliament  dissolved  every  year,  that  we 
may  change  our  man  if  he  does  n't  do  what  we  want  him  to 
do ;  and  we  must  have  the  country  divided  so  that  the  little 
kings  of  the  counties  can't  do  as  they  like,  but  must  be  shaken 
up  in  one  bag  with  us.  I  say,  if  we  working  men  are  ever  to 
get  a  man's  share,  we  must  have  universal  suffrage,  and  annual 
Parliaments,  and  the  vote  by  ballot,  and  electoral  districts." 

"  No !  —  something  else  before  all  that,"  said  Felix,  again 
startling  the  audience  into  looking  at  him.  But  the  speaker 
glanced  coldly  at  him  and  went  on. 

"  That 's  what  Sir  Francis  Burdett  went  in  for  fifteen  years 
ago ;  and  it 's  the  right  thing  for  us,  if  it  was  Tomfool  who 
went  in  for  it.  You  must  lay  hold  of  such  handles  as  you  can. 
I  don't  believe  much  in  Liberal  aristocrats ;  but  if  there 's  any 
fine  carved  gold-headed  stick  of  an  aristocrat  will  make  a  broom- 
stick of  himself,  I  '11  lose  no  time  but  I  '11  sweep  with  him. 
And  that 's  what  I  think  about  Transoine.  And  if  any  of  you 
have  acquaintance  among  county  voters,  give  'em  a  hint  that 
you  wish  'em  to  vote  for  Transoine." 

At  the  last  word,  the  speaker  stepped  down  from  his  slight 
eminence,  and  walked  away  rapidly,  like  a  man  whose  leisure 
was  exhausted,  and  who  must  go  about  his  business.  But  he 
had  left  an  appetite  in  his  audience  for  further  oratory,  and 
one  of  them  seemed  to  express  a  general  sentiment  as  he  turned 
immediately  to  Felix,  and  said,  "  Come,  sir,  what  do  you 
say  ?  " 

Felix  did  at  once  what  he  would  very  likely  have  done  with- 
out being  asked  —  he  stepped  on  to  the  stone,  and  took  off  his 
cap  by  an  instinctive  prompting  that  always  led  him  to  speak 
uncovered.  The  effect  of  his  figure  in  relief  against  the  stone 
background  was  unlike  that  of  the  previous  speaker.  He  was 
considerably  taller,  his  head  and  neck  were  more  massive,  and 
the  expression  of  his  mouth  and  eyes  was  something  very  dif- 
ferent from  the  mere  acuteness  and  rather  hard-lipped  antago- 
nism of  the  trades-union  man.  Felix  Holt's  face  had  the  look  of 
habitual  meditative  abstraction  from  objects  of  mere  personal 
vanity  or  desire,  which  is  the  peculiar  stamp  of  culture,  and 


304  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL. 

makes  a  very  roughly  cut  face  worthy  to  be  called  "  the  human 
face  divine."  Even  lions  and  dogs  know  a  distinction  between 
men's  glances ;  and  doubtless  those  Duffield  men,  in  the  expec- 
tation with  which  they  looked  up  at  Felix,  were  unconsciously 
influenced  by  the  grandeur  of  his  full  yet  firm  mouth,  and  the 
calm  clearness  of  his  gray  eyes,  which  were  somehow  unlike 
what  they  were  accustomed  to  see  along  with  an  old  brown  vel- 
veteen coat,  and  an  absence  of  chin-propping.  When  he  began  to 
speak,  the  contrast  of  voice  was  still  stronger  than  that  of  ap- 
pearance. The  man  in  the  flannel  shirt  had  not  been  heard  — 
had  probably  not  cared  to  be  heard  —  beyond  the  immediate 
group  of  listeners.  But  Felix  at  once  drew  the  attention  of 
persons  comparatively  at  a  distance. 

"  In  my  opinion,"  he  said,  almost  the  moment  after  he  was 
addressed,  "  that  was  a  true  word  spoken  by  your  friend  when 
he  said  the  great  question  was  how  to  give  every  man  a  man's 
share  in  life.  But  I  think  he  expects  voting  to  do  more  to- 
wards it  than  I  do.  I  want  the  working  men  to  have  power. 
I  'm  a  working  man  myself,  and  I  don't  want  to  be  anything 
else.  But  there  are  two  sorts  of  power.  There  's  a  power  to 
do  mischief  —  to  undo  what  has  been  done  with  great  expense 
and  labor,  to  waste  and  destroy,  to  be  cruel  to  the  weak,  to  lie 
and  quarrel,  and  to  talk  poisonous  nonsense.  That 's  the  sort 
of  power  that  ignorant  numbers  have.  It  never  made  a  joint 
stool  or  planted  a  potato.  Do  you  think  it's  likely  to  do 
much  towards  governing  a  great  country,  and  making  wise 
laws,  and  giving  shelter,  food,  and  clothes  to  millions  of  men  ? 
Ignorant  power  comes  in  the  end  to  the  same  thing  as  wicked 
power ;  it  makes  misery.  It 's  another  sort  of  power  that  I 
want  us  working  men  to  have,  and  I  can  see  plainly  enough 
that  our  all  having  votes  will  do  little  towards  it  at  present. 
I  hope  we,  or  the  children  that  come  after  us,  will  get  plenty 
of  political  power  some  time.  I  tell  everybody  plainly,  I  hope 
there  will  be  great  changes,  and  that  some  time,  whether  we 
live  to  see  it  or  not,  men  will  have  come  to  be  ashamed  of 
things  they  're  proud  of  now.  But  I  should  like  to  convince 
you  that  votes  would  never  give  you  political  power  worth 
having  while  things  are  as  they  are  now,  and  that  if  you  go 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  305 

the  right  way  to  work  you  may  get  power  sooner  without 
votes.  Perhaps  all  you  who  hear  me  are  sober  men,  who  try 
to  learn  as  much  of  the  nature  of  things  as  you  can,  and  to  be 
as  little  like  fools  as  possible.  A  fool  or  idiot  is  one  who  ex- 
pects things  to  happen  that  never  can  happen ;  he  pours  milk 
into  a  can  without  a  bottom,  and  expects  the  milk  to  stay  there. 
The  more  of  such  vain  expectations  a  man  has,  the  more  he  is 
of  a  fool  or  idiot.  And  if  any  working  man  expects  a  vote  to 
do  for  him  what  it  never  can  do,  he  's  foolish  to  that  amount, 
if  no  more.  I  think  that 's  clear  enough,  eh  ?  " 

"  Hear,  hear,"  said  several  voices,  but  they  were  not  those 
of  the  original  group ;  they  belonged  to  some  strollers  who 
had  been  attracted  by  Felix  Holt's  vibrating  voice,  and  were 
Tories  from  the  Crown.  Among  them  was  Christian,  who  was 
smoking  a  cigar  with  a  pleasure  he  always  felt  in  being  among 
people  who  did  not  know  him,  and  doubtless  took  him  to  be 
something  higher  than  he  really  was.  Hearers  from  the  Fox 
and  Hounds  also  were  slowly  adding  themselves  to  the  nucleus. 
Felix,  accessible  to  the  pleasure  of  being  listened  to,  went  on 
with  more  and  more  animation  :  — 

"  The  way  to  get  rid  of  folly  is  to  get  rid  of  vain  expecta- 
tions, and  of  thoughts  that  don't  agree  with  the  nature  of 
things.  The  men  who  have  had  true  thoughts  about  water, 
and  what  it  will  do  when  it  is  turned  into  steam  and  under 
all  sorts  of  circumstances,  have  made  themselves  a  great  power 
in  the  world  :  they  are  turning  the  wheels  of  engines  that  will 
help  to  change  most  things.  But  no  engines  would  have  done, 
if  there  had  been  false  notions  about  the  way  water  would 
act.  Now,  all  the  schemes  about  voting,  and  districts,  and 
annual  Parliaments,  and  the  rest,  are  engines,  and  the  water 
or  steam  —  the  force  that  is  to  work  them  —  must  come  out 
of  human  nature  —  out  of  men's  passions,  feelings,  desires. 
Whether  the  engines  will  do  good  work  or  bad  depends  on 
these  feelings ;  and  if  we  have  false  expectations  about  men's 
characters,  we  are  very  much  like  the  idiot  who  thinks  he  '11 
carry  milk  in  a  can  without  a  bottom.  In  my  opinion,  the 
notions  about  what  mere  voting  will  do  are  very  much  of  that 
sort." 

VOL.  in.  20 


306  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL. 

"  That 's  very  fine,"  said  a  man  in  dirty  fustian,  with  a 
scornful  laugh.  "  But  how  are  we  to  get  the  power  without 
votes  ?  " 

"  I  '11  tell  you  what 's  the  greatest  power  under  heaven," 
said  Felix,  "  and  that  is  public  opinion  —  the  ruling  belief  in 
society  about  what  is  right  and  what  is  wrong,  what  is  hon- 
orable and  what  is  shameful.  That 's  the  steam  that  is  to 
work  the  engines.  How  can  political  freedom  make  us  better, 
any  more  than  a  religion  we  don't  believe  in,  if  people  laugh 
and  wink  when  they  see  men  abuse  and  defile  it  ?  And  while 
public  opinion  is  what  it  is  —  while  men  have  no  better  beliefs 
about  public  duty  —  while  corruption  is  not  felt  to  be  a  damn- 
ing disgrace  —  while  men  are  not  ashamed  in  Parliament  and 
out  of  it  to  make  public  questions  which  concern  the  welfare 
of  millions  a  mere  screen  for  their  own  petty  private  ends,  — 
I  say,  no  fresh  scheme  of  voting  will  much  mend  our  condi- 
tion. For,  take  us  working  men  of  all  sorts.  Suppose  out  of 
every  hundred  who  had  a  vote  there  were  thirty  who  had 
some  soberness,  some  sense  to  choose  with,  some  good  feeling 
to  make  them  wish  the  right  thing  for  all.  And  suppose  there 
were  seventy  out  of  the  hundred  who  were,  half  of  them,  not 
sober,  who  had  no  sense  to  choose  one  thing  in  politics  more 
than  another,  and  who  had  so  little  good  feeling  in  them  that 
they  wasted  on  their  own  drinking  the  money  that  should 
have  helped  to  feed  and  clothe  their  wives  and  children ;  and 
another  half  of  them  who,  if  they  did  n't  drink,  were  too  igno- 
rant or  mean  or  stupid  to  see  any  good  for  themselves  better 
than  pocketing  a  five-shilling  piece  when  it  was  offered  them. 
Where  would  be  the  political  power  of  the  thirty  sober  men  ? 
The  power  would  lie  with  the  seventy  drunken  and  stupid 
votes ;  and  I  '11  tell  you  what  sort  of  men  would  get  the  power 
— what  sort  of  men  would  end  by  returning  whom  they  pleased 
to  Parliament." 

Felix  had  seen  every  face  around  him,  and  had  particularly 
noticed  a  recent  addition  to  his  audience ;  but  now  he  looked 
before  him  without  appearing  to  fix  his  glance  on  any  one.  In 
spite  of  his  cooling  meditations  an  hour  ago,  his  pulse  was 
getting  quickened  by  indignation,  and  the  desire  to  crush  what 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  307 

he  hated  was  likely  to  vent  itself  in  articulation.  His  tone 
became  more  biting. 

"  They  would  be  men  who  would  undertake  to  do  the  busi- 
ness for  a  candidate,  and  return  him :  men  who  have  no  real 
opinions,  but  who  pilfer  the  words  of  every  opinion,  and  turn 
them  into  a  cant  which  will  serve  their  purpose  at  the  moment ; 
men  who  look  out  for  dirty  work  to  make  their  fortunes  by, 
because  dirty  work  wants  little  talent  and  no  conscience  ;  men 
who  know  all  the  ins  and  outs  of  bribery,  because  there  is  not 
a  cranny  in  their  own  souls  where  a  bribe  can't  enter.  Such 
men  as  these  will  be  the  masters  wherever  there 's  a  majority 
of  voters  who  care  more  for  money,  more  for  drink,  more  for 
some  mean  little  end  which  is  their  own  and  nobody  else's, 
than  for  anything  that  has  ever  been  called  Right  in  the  world. 
For  suppose  there  's  a  poor  voter  named  Jack,  who  has  seven 
children,  and  twelve  or  fifteen  shillings  a-week  wages,  perhaps 
less.  Jack  can't  read  —  I  don't  say  whose  fault  that  is  —  he 
never  had  the  chance  to  learn ;  he  knows  so  little  that  he  per- 
haps thinks  God  made  the  poor-laws,  and  if  anybody  said 
the  pattern  of  the  workhouse  was  laid  down  in  the  Testament, 
he  would  n't  be  able  to  contradict  them.  What  is  poor  Jack 
likely  to  do  when  he  sees  a  smart  stranger  coming  to  him,  who 
happens  to  be  just  one  of  those  men  that  I  say  will  be  the 
masters  till  public  opinion  gets  too  hot  for  them  ?  He  's  a 
middle-sized  man,  we  '11  say ;  stout,  with  coat  upon  coat  of  fine 
broadcloth,  open  enough  to  show  a  fine  gold  chain  :  none  of  your 
dark,  scowling  men,  but  one  with  an  innocent  pink-and-white 
skin  and  very  smooth  light  hair  —  a  most  respectable  man,  who 
calls  himself  by  a  good,  sound,  well-known  English  name  —  as 
Green,  or  Baker,  or  "Wilson,  or,  let  us  say,  Johnson —  " 

Felix  was  interrupted  by  an  explosion  of  laughter  from  a 
majority  of  the  bystanders.  Some  eyes  had  been  turned  on 
Johnson,  who  stood  on  the  right  hand  of  Felix,  at  the  very  be- 
ginning of  the  description,  and  these  were  gradually  followed 
by  others,  till  at  last  every  hearer's  attention  was  fixed  on  him, 
and  the  first  burst  of  laughter  from  the  two  or  three  who  knew 
the  attorney's  name,  let  every  one  sufficiently  into  the  secret 
to  make  the  amusement  common.  Johnson,  who  had  kept  his 


308  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL. 

ground  till  his  name  was  mentioned,  now  turned  away,  looking 
unusually  white  after  being  unusually  red,  and  feeling  by  an 
attorney's  instinct  for  his  pocket-book,  as  if  he  felt  it  was  a 
case  for  taking  down  the  names  of  witnesses. 

All  the  well-dressed  hearers  turned  away  too,  thinking  they 
had  had  the  cream  of  the  speech  in  the  joke  against  Johnson, 
which,  as  a  thing  worth  telling,  helped  to  recall  them  to  the 
scene  of  dinner. 

"  Who  is  this  Johnson  ?  "  said  Christian  to  a  young  man 
who  had  been  standing  near  him,  and  had  been  one  of  the  first 
to  laugh.  Christian's  curiosity  had  naturally  been  awakened 
by  what  might  prove  a  golden  opportunity. 

"  Oh  —  a  London  attorney.  He  acts  for  Transome.  That 
tremendous  fellow  at  the  corner  there  is  some  red-hot  Eadical 
demagogue,  and  Johnson  has  offended  him,  I  suppose  ;  else  he 
would  n't  have  turned  in  that  way  on  a  man  of  their  own 
party." 

"  I  had  heard  there  was  a  Johnson  who  was  an  understrap- 
per of  Jenny  n's,"  said  Christian. 

"  Well,  so  this  man  may  have  been  for  what  I  know.  But 
he 's  a  London  man  now  —  a  very  busy  fellow  —  on  his  own 
legs  in  Bedford  Row.  Ha  ha !  It 's  capital,  though,  when 
these  Liberals  get  a  slap  in  the  face  from  the  working  men 
they  're  so  very  fond  of." 

Another  turn  along  the  street  enabled  Christian  to  come  to 
a  resolution.  Having  seen  Jermyn  drive  away  an  hour  before, 
he  was  in  no  fear :  he  walked  at  once  to  the  Fox  and  Hounds 
and  asked  to  speak  to  Mr.  Johnson.  A  brief  interview,  in 
which  Christian  ascertained  that  he  had  before  him  the  John- 
son mentioned  by  the  bill-sticker,  issued  in  the  appointment 
of  a  longer  one  at  a  later  hour ;  and  before  they  left  Duffield 
they  had  come  not  exactly  to  a  mutual  understanding,  but  to 
an  exchange  of  information  mutually  welcome. 

Christian  had  been  very  cautious  in  the  commencement,  only 
intimating  that  he  knew  something  important  which  some 
chance  hints  had  induced  him  to  think  might  be  interesting  to 
Mr.  Johnson,  but  that  this  entirely  depended  on  how  far  he 
had  a  common  interest  with  Mr.  Jermyn.  Johnson  replied 


FELIX  HOLT,   THE   RADICAL.  309 

that  he  had  much  business  in  which  that  gentleman  was  not 
concerned,  but  that  to  a  certain  extent  they  had  a  common 
interest.  Probably  then,  Christian  observed,  the  affairs  of 
the  Transonic  estate  were  part  of  the  business  in  which  Mr. 
Jermyn  and  Mr.  Johnson  might  be  understood  to  represent 
each  other  —  in  which  case  he  need  not  detain  Mr.  Johnson  ? 
At  this  hint  Johnson  could  not  conceal  that  he  was  becoming 
eager.  He  had  no  idea  what  Christian's  information  was,  but 
there  were  many  grounds  on  which  Johnson  desired  to  know 
as  much  as  he  could  about  the  Transome  affairs  independently 
of  Jermyn.  By  little  and  little  an  understanding  was  arrived 
at.  Christian  told  of  his  interview  with  Tommy  Trounsem, 
and  stated  that  if  Johnson  could  show  him  whether  the  knowl- 
edge could  have  any  legal  value,  he  could  bring  evidence  that 
a  legitimate  child  of  Bycliffe's  existed :  he  felt  certain  of  his 
fact,  and  of  his  proof.  Johnson  explained,  that  in  this  case 
the  death  of  the  old  bill-sticker  would  give  the  child  the  first 
valid  claim  to  the  Bycliffe  heirship  ;  that  for  his  own  part  he 
should  be  glad  to  further  a  true  claim,  but  that  caution  must 
be  observed.  How  did  Christian  know  that  Jermyn  was  in- 
formed on  this  subject  ?  Christian,  more  and  more  convinced 
that  Johnson  would  be  glad  to  counteract  Jermyn,  at  length 
became  explicit  about  Esther,  but  still  withheld  his  own 
real  name,  and  the  nature  of  his  relations  with  Bycliffe.  He 
said  he  would  bring  the  rest  of  his  information  when  Mr. 
Johnson  took  the  case  up  seriously,  and  place  it  in  the  hands 
of  Bycliffe's  old  lawyers  —  of  course  he  would  do  that  ? 
Johnson  replied  that  he  would  certainly  do  that;  but  that 
there  were  legal  niceties  which  Mr.  Christian  was  probably 
not  acquainted  with ;  that  Esther's  claim  had  not  yet  accrued ; 
and  that  hurry  was  useless. 

The  two  men  parted,  each  in  distrust  of  the  other,  but  each 
well  pleased  to  have  learned  something.  Johnson  was  not  at 
all  sure  how  he  should  act,  but  thought  it  likely  that  events 
would  soon  guide  him.  Christian  was  beginning  to  meditate 
a  way  of  securing  his  own  ends  without  depending  in  the  least 
on  Johnson's  procedure.  It  was  enough  for  him  that  he  was 
now  assured  of  Esther's  legal  claim  on  the  Transome  estates. 


310  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL. 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 

In  the  copia  of  the  factious  language  the  word  Tory  was  entertained,  .  .  . 
and  being  a  vocal  clever-sounding  word,  readily  pronounced,  it  kept  its  hold, 
and  took  possession  of  the  foul  mouths  of  the  faction.  .  .  .  The  Loyalists  be- 
gan to  cheer  up  and  to  take  heart  of  grace,  and  in  the  working  of  this  crisis, 
according  to  the  common  laws  of  scolding,  they  considered  which  way  to 
make  payment  for  so  much  of  Tory  as  they  had  been  treated  with,  to  clear 
scores.  .  .  .  Immediately  the  train  took,  and  ran  like  wildfire  and  became 
general.  And  so  the  account  of  Tory  was  balanced,  and  soon  began  to  run 
up  a  sharp  score  on  the  other  side.  —  NORTH'S  Examen,  p.  321. 

AT  last  the  great  epoch  of  the  election  for  North  Loamshire 
had  arrived.  The  roads  approaching  Treby  were  early  trav- 
ersed by  a  larger  number  of  vehicles,  horsemen,  and  also  foot- 
passengers,  than  were  ever  seen  there  at  the  annual  fair. 
Treby  was  the  polling-place  for  many  voters  whose  faces  were 
quite  strange  in  the  town ;  and  if  there  were  some  strangers 
who  did  not  come  to  poll,  though  they  had  business  not  uncon- 
nected with  the  election,  they  were  not  liable  to  be  regarded 
with  suspicion  or  especial  curiosity.  It  was  understood  that 
no  division  of  a  county  had  ever  been  more  thoroughly  can- 
vassed, and  that  there  would  be  a  hard  run  between  Garstin 
and  Transome.  Mr.  Johnson's  headquarters  were  at  Duffield  ; 
but  it  was  a  maxim  which  he  repeated  after  the  great  Putty, 
that  a  capable  agent  makes  himself  omnipresent ;  and  quite 
apart  from  the  express  between  him  and  Jermyn,  Mr.  John 
Johnson's  presence  in  the  universe  had  potent  effects  on  this 
December  day  at  Treby  Magna. 

A  slight  drizzling  rain  which  was  observed  by  some  Tories 
who  looked  out  of  their  bedroom  windows  before  six  o'clock, 
made  them  hope  that,  after  all,  the  day  might  pass  off  better 
than  alarmists  had  expected.  The  rain  was  felt  to  be  some- 
how 011  the  side  of  quiet  and  Conservatism ;  but  soon  the 
breaking  of  the  clouds  and  the  mild  gleams  of  a  December  sun 
brought  back  previous  apprehensions.  As  there  were  already 


FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL.  311 

precedents  for  riot  at  a  Reformed  election,  and  as  the  Trebian 
district  had  had  its  confidence  in  the  natural  course  of  things 
somewhat  shaken  by  a  landed  proprietor  with  an  old  name 
offering  himself  as  a  Radical  candidate,  the  election  had  been 
looked  forward  to  by  many  with  a  vague  sense  that  it  would 
be  an  occasion  something  like  a  fighting  match,  when  bad  char- 
acters would  probably  assemble,  and  there  might  be  struggles 
and  alarms  for  respectable  men,  which  would  make  it  expedient 
for  them  to  take  a  little  neat  brandy  as  a  precaution  before- 
hand and  a  restorative  afterwards.  The  tenants  on  the  Tran- 
some  estate  were  comparatively  fearless :  poor  Mr.  Goffe,  of 
Rabbit's  End,  considered  that  "  one  thing  was  as  mauling  as 
another,"  and  that  an  election  was  no  worse  than  the  sheep- 
rot  ;  while  Mr.  Dibbs,  taking  the  more  cheerful  view  of  a  pros- 
perous man,  reflected  that  if  the  Radicals  were  dangerous,  it 
was  safer  to  be  on  their  side.  It  was  the  voters  for  Debarry 
and  Garstin  who  considered  that  they  alone  had  the  right  to 
regard  themselves  as  targets  for  evil-minded  men;  and  Mr. 
Crowder,  if  he  could  have  got  his  ideas  countenanced,  would 
have  recommended  a  muster  of  farm-servants  with  defensive 
pitchforks  on  the  side  of  Church  and  King.  But  the  bolder 
men  were  rather  gratified  by  the  prospect  of  being  groaned  at, 
so  that  they  might  face  about  and  groan  in  return. 

Mr.  Crow,  the  high  constable  of  Treby,  inwardly  rehearsed 
a  brief  address  to  a  riotous  crowd  in  case  it  should  be  wanted, 
having  been  warned  by  the  Rector  that  it  was  a  primary  duty 
on  these  occasions  to  keep  a  watch  against  provocation  as  well 
as  violence.  The  Rector,  with  a  brother  magistrate  who  was 
on  the  spot,  had  thought  it  desirable  to  swear  in  some  special 
constables,  but  the  presence  of  loyal  men  not  absolutely  re- 
quired for  the  polling  was  not  looked  at  in  the  light  of  a  provo- 
cation. The  Benefit  Clubs  from  various  quarters  made  a 
show,  some  with  the  orange-colored  ribbons  and  streamers  of 
the  true  Tory  candidate,  some  with  the  mazarine  of  the  Whig. 
The  orange-colored  bands  played  "Auld  Langsyne,"  and  a 
louder  mazarine  band  came  across  them  with  "  Oh,  whistle  and 
I  will  come  to  thee,  my  lad  "  —  probably  as  the  tune  the  most 
symbolical  of  Liberalism  which  their  repertory  would  furnish. 


312  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  EADICAL. 

There  was  not  a  single  club  bearing  the  Eadical  blue:  the 
Sproxton  Club  members  wore  the  mazarine,  and  Mr.  Chubb 
wore  so  much  of  it  that  he  looked  (at  a  sufficient  distance) 
like  a  very  large  gentianella.  It  was  generally  understood 
that  "these  brave  fellows,"  representing  the  fine  institution 
of  Benefit  Clubs,  and  holding  aloft  the  motto,  "  Let  brotherly 
love  continue,"  were  a  civil  force  calculated  to  encourage  vot- 
ers of  sound  opinions  and  keep  up  their  spirits.  But  a  con- 
siderable number  of  unadorned  heavy  navvies,  colliers,  and 
stone-pit  men,  who  used  their  freedom  as  British  subjects  to  be 
present  in  Treby  on  this  great  occasion,  looked  like  a  possibly 
uncivil  force  whose  politics  were  dubious  until  it  was  clearly 
seen  for  whom  they  cheered  and  for  whom  they  groaned. 

Thus  the  way  up  to  the  polling-booths  was  variously  lined, 
and  those  who  walked  it,  to  whatever  side  they  belonged,  had 
the  advantage  of  hearing  from  the  opposite  side  what  were  the 
most  marked  defects  or  excesses  in  their  personal  appearance ; 
for  the  Trebians  of  that  day  held,  without  being  aware  that 
they  had  Cicero's  authority  for  it,  that  the  bodily  blemishes 
of  an  opponent  were  a  legitimate  ground  for  ridicule ;  but  if 
the  voter  frustrated  wit  by  being  handsome,  he  was  groaned 
at  and  satirized  according  to  a  formula,  in  which  the  adjec- 
tive was  Tory,  Whig,  or  Eadical,  as  the  case  might  be,  and 
the  substantive  a  blank  to  be  filled  up  after  the  taste  of  the 
speaker. 

Some  of  the  more  timid  had  chosen  to  go  through  this  ordeal 
as  early  as  possible  in  the  morning.  One  of  the  earliest  was 
Mr.  Timothy  Kose,  the  gentleman-farmer  from  Leek  Malton. 
He  had  left  home  with  some  foreboding,  having  swathed  his 
more  vital  parts  in  layers  of  flannel,  and  put  on  two  great- 
coats as  a  soft  kind  of  armor.  But  reflecting  with  some  trepi- 
dation that  there  were  no  resources  for  protecting  his  head,  he 
once  more  wavered  in  his  intention  to  vote ;  he  once  more  ob- 
served to  Mrs.  Rose  that  these  were  hard  times  when  a  man 
of  independent  property  was  expected  to  vote  "  willy-nilly ; " 
but  finally,  coerced  by  the  sense  that  he  should  be  looked  ill 
on  "  in  these  times  "  if  he  did  not  stand  by  the  gentlemen 
round  about,  he  set  out  in  his  gig,  taking  with  him  a  powerful 


FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL.  313 

wagoner,  whom  he  ordered  to  keep  him  in  sight  as  he  went  to 
the  polling-booth.  It  was  hardly  more  than  nine  o'clock  when 
Mr.  Rose,  having  thus  come  up  to  the  level  of  his  times, 
cheered  himself  with  a  little  cherry-brandy  at  the  Marquis, 
drove  away  in  a  much  more  courageous  spirit,  and  got  down 
at  Mr.  Nolan's,  just  outside  the  town.  The  retired  Londoner, 
he  considered,  was  a  man  of  experience,  who  would  estimate 
properly  the  judicious  course  he  had  taken,  and  could  make  it 
known  to  others.  Mr.  Nolan  was  superintending  the  removal 
of  some  shrubs  in  his  garden. 

"Well,  Mr.  Nolan,"  said  Kose,  twinkling  a  self-complacent 
look  over  the  red  prominence  of  his  cheeks,  "have  you  been 
to  give  your  vote  yet  ?  " 

"  No ;  all  in  good  time.     I  shall  go  presently." 

"Well,  I  wouldn't  lose  an  hour,  I  wouldn't.  I  said  to  my- 
self, if  I  've  got  to  do  gentlemen  a  favor,  I  '11  do  it  at  once. 
You  see,  I  've  got  no  landlord,  Nolan  —  I  'm  in  that  position 
o'  life  that  I  can  be  independent." 

"  Just  so,  my  dear  sir,"  said  the  wiry -faced  Nolan,  pinching 
his  under-lip  between  his  thumb  and  finger,  and  giving  one  of 
those  wonderful  universal  shrugs,  by  which  he  seemed  to  be 
recalling  all  his  garments  from  a  tendency  to  disperse  them- 
selves. "  Come  in  and  see  Mrs.  Nolan  ?  " 

"No,  no,  thankye.  Mrs.  Kose  expects  me  back.  But,  as 
I  was  saying,  I  'm  a  independent  man,  and  I  consider  it 's  not 
my  part  to  show  favor  to  one  more  than  another,  but  to  make 
things  as  even  as  I  can.  If  I  'd  been  a  tenant  to  anybody,  well, 
in  course  I  must  have  voted  for  my  landlord  —  that  stands  to 
sense.  But  I  wish  everybody  well ;  and  if  one 's  returned  to 
Parliament  more  than  another,  nobody  can  say  it 's  my  doing ; 
for  when  you  can  vote  for  two,  you  can  make  things  even.  So 
I  gave  one  to  Debarry  and  one  to  Transome  ;  and  I  wish  Gar- 
stin  no  ill,  but  I  can't  help  the  odd  number,  and  he  hangs  on 
to  Debarry,  they  say." 

"  God  bless  mo,  sir,"  said  Mr.  Nolan,  coughing  down  a  laugh, 
"don't  you  perceive  that  you  might  as  well  have  stayed  at 
home  and  not  voted  at  all,  unless  you  would  rather  send  a 
Radical  to  Parliament  than  a  sober  Whig  ?  " 


314  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

"  Well,  I  'm  sorry  you  should  have  anything  to  say  against 
what  I've  done,  Nolan,"  said  Mr.  Rose,  rather  crestfallen, 
though  sustained  by  inward  warmth.  "  I  thought  you  'd  agree 
with  me,  as  you  're  a  sensible  man.  But  the  most  a  indepen- 
dent man  can  do  is  to  try  and  please  all ;  and  if  he  has  n't  the 
luck  —  here 's  wishing  I  may  do  it  another  time,"  added  Mr. 
Rose,  apparently  confounding  a  toast  with  a  salutation,  for  he 
put  out  his  hand  for  a  passing  shake,  and  then  stepped  into 
his  gig  again. 

At  the  time  that  Mr.  Timothy  Eose  left  the  town,  the  crowd 
in  King  Street  and  in  the  market-place,  where  the  polling- 
booths  stood,  was  fluctuating.  Voters  as  yet  were  scanty,  and 
brave  fellows  who  had  come  from  any  distance  this  morning, 
or  who  had  sat  up  late  drinking  the  night  before,  required 
some  reinforcement  of  their  strength  and  spirits.  Every 
public-house  in  Treby,  not  excepting  the  venerable  and  sombre 
Cross-Keys,  was  lively  with  changing  and  numerous  company. 
Not,  of  course,  that  there  was  any  treating:  treating  neces- 
sarily had  stopped,  from  moral  scruples,  when  once  "  the  writs 
were  out ;  "  but  there  was  drinking,  which  did  equally  well 
under  any  name. 

Poor  Tommy  Trounsem,  breakfasting  here  on  Falstaff's  pro- 
portion of  bread,  and  something  which,  for  gentility's  sake, 
I  will  call  sack,  was  more  than  usually  victorious  over  the  ills 
of  life,  and  felt  himself  one  of  the  heroes  of  the  day.  He  had 
an  immense  light-blue  cockade  in  his  hat,  and  an  amount  of 
silver  in  a  dirty  little  canvas  bag  which  astonished  himself. 
For  some  reason,  at  first  inscrutable  to  him,  he  had  been  paid 
for  his  bill-sticking  with  great  liberality  at  Mr.  Jeruiyn's  office, 
in  spite  of  his  having  been  the  victim  of  a  trick  by  which  he 
had  once  lost  his  own  bills  and  pasted  up  Debarry's ;  but  he 
soon  saw  that  this  was  simply  a  recognition  of  his  merit  as 
"  an  old  family  kept  out  of  its  rights,"  and  also  of  his  peculiar 
share  in  an  occasion  when  the  family  was  to  get  into  Parlia- 
ment. Under  these  circumstances,  it  was  due  from  him  that 
he  should  show  himself  prominently  where  business  was  go- 
ing forward,  and  give  additional  value  by  his  presence  to  every 
vote  for  Transome.  With  this  view  he  got  a  half-pint  bottle 


FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL.  315 

filled  with  his  peculiar  kind  of  "sack,"  and  hastened  back 
to  the  market-place,  feeling  good-natured  and  patronizing 
towards  all  political  parties,  and  only  so  far  partial  as  his 
family  bound  him  to  be. 

But  a  disposition  to  concentrate  at  that  extremity  of  King 
Street  which  issued  in  the  market-place  was  not  universal 
among  the  increasing  crowd.  Some  of  them  seemed  attracted 
towards  another  nucleus  at  the  other  extremity  of  King  Street, 
near  the  Seven  Stars.  This  was  Garstin's  chief  house,  where 
his  committee  sat,  and  it  was  also  a  point  which  must  neces- 
sarily be  passed  by  many  voters  entering  the  town  on  the 
eastern  side.  It  seemed  natural  that  the  mazarine  colors 
should  be  visible  here,  and  that  Pack,  the  tall  "  shepherd  "  of 
the  Sproxton  men,  should  be  seen  moving  to  and  fro  where 
there  would  be  a  frequent  opportunity  of  cheering  the  voters 
for  a  gentleman  who  had  the  chief  share  in  the  Sproxton 
mines.  But  the  side  lanes  and  entries  out  of  King  Street 
were  numerous  enough  to  relieve  any  pressure  if  there  was 
need  to  make  way.  The  lanes  had  a  distinguished  reputation. 
Two  of  them  had  odors  of  brewing ;  one  had  a  side  entrance 
to  Mr.  Tiliot's  wine  and  spirit  vaults  ;  up  another  Mr.  Mus- 
cat's cheeses  were  frequently  being  unloaded ;  and  even  some 
of  the  entries  had  those  cheerful  suggestions  of  plentiful 
provision  which  were  among  the  characteristics  of  Treby. 

Between  ten  and  eleven  the  voters  came  in  more  rapid  suc- 
cession, and  the  whole  scene  became  spirited.  Cheers,  sar- 
casms, and  oaths,  which  seemed  to  have  a  flavor  of  wit  for 
many  hearers,  were  beginning  to  be  reinforced  by  more  prac- 
tical demonstrations,  dubiously  jocose.  There  was  a  disposi- 
tion in  the  crowd  to  close  and  hem  in  the  way  for  voters, 
either  going  or  coming,  until  they  had  paid  some  kind  of  toll. 
It  was  difficult  to  see  who  set  the  example  in  the  transition 
from  words  to  deeds.  Some  thought  it  was  due  to  Jacob 
Cuff,  a  Tory  charity-man,  who  was  a  well-known  ornament  of 
the  pothouse,  and  gave  his  mind  much  leisure  for  amusing 
devices  ;  but  questions  of  origination  in  stirring  periods  are 
notoriously  hard  to  settle.  It  is  by  no  means  necessary  in 
human  things  that  there  should  be  only  one  beginner.  This, 


316  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL. 

however,  is  certain  —  that  Mr.  Chubb,  who  wished  it  to  be 
noticed  that  he  voted  for  Garstin  solely,  was  one  of  the  first 
to  get  rather  more  notice  than  he  wished,  and  that  he  had  his 
hat  knocked  off  and  crushed  in  the  interest  of  Debarry  by 
Tories  opposed  to  coalition.  On  the  other  hand,  some  said  it 
was  at  the  same  time  that  Mr.  Pink,  the  saddler,  being  stopped 
on  his  way  and  made  to  declare  that  he  was  going  to  vote  for 
Debarry,  got  himself  well  chalked  as  to  his  coat,  and  pushed 
up  an  entry,  where  he  remained  the  prisoner  of  terror  com- 
bined with  the  want  of  any  back  outlet,  and  never  gave  his 
vote  that  day. 

The  second  Tory  joke  was  performed  with  much  gusto. 
The  majority  of  the  Transome  tenants  came  in  a  body  from 
the  Ram  Inn,  with  Mr.  Banks  the  bailiff  leading  them.  Poor 
Goffe  was  the  last  of  them,  and  his  worn  melancholy  look  and 
forward-leaning  gait  gave  the  jocose  Cuff  the  notion  that  the 
farmer  was  not  what  he  called  "  compus."  Mr.  Goffe  was  cut 
off  from  his  companions  and  hemmed  in;  asked,  by  voices 
with  hot  breath  close  to  his  ear,  how  many  horses  he  had, 
how  many  cows,  how  many  fat  pigs  ;  then  jostled  from  one 
to  another,  who  made  trumpets  with  their  hands,  and  deafened 
him  by  telling  him  to  vote  for  Debarry.  In  this  way  the 
melancholy  Goffe  was  hustled  on  till  he  was  at  the  polling- 
booth —  filled  with  confused  alarms,  the  immediate  alarm  being 
that  of  having  to  go  back  in  still  worse  fashion  than  he  had 
come.  Arriving  in  this  way  after  the  other  tenants  had  left, 
he  astonished  all  hearers  who  knew  him  for  a  tenant  of  the 
Transomes  by  saying  "  Debarry,"  and  was  jostled  back  trem- 
bling amid  shouts  of  laughter. 

By  stages  of  this  kind  the  fun  grew  faster,  and  was  in 
danger  of  getting  rather  serious.  The  Tories  began  to  feel 
that  their  jokes  were  returned  by  others  of  a  heavier  sort,  and 
that  the  main  strength  of  the  crowd  was  not  on  the  side  of 
sound  opinion,  but  might  come  to  be  on  the  side  of  sound 
cudgelling  and  kicking.  The  navvies  and  pitmen  in  disha- 
bille seemed  to  be  multiplying,  and  to  be  clearly  not  belonging 
to  the  party  of  Order.  The  shops  were  freely  resorted  to  for 
various  forms  of  playful  missiles  and  weapons ;  and  news 


FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL.  317 

came  to  the  magistrates,  watching  from  the  large  window  of 
the  Marquis,  that  a  gentleman  coming  in  on  horseback  at  the 
other  end  of  the  street  to  vote  for  Garstin  had  had  his  horse 
turned  round  and  frightened  into  a  headlong  gallop  out  of  it 
again. 

Mr.  Crow  and  his  subordinates,  and  all  the  special  consta- 
bles, felt  that  it  was  necessary  to  make  some  energetic  effort, 
or  else  every  voter  would  be  intimidated  and  the  poll  must  be 
adjourned.  The  Rector  determined  to  get  on  horseback  and 
go  amidst  the  crowd  with  the  constables ;  and  he  sent  a  mes- 
sage to  Mr.  Lingon,  who  was  at  the  Ram,  calling  on  him  to  do 
the  same.  "  Sporting  Jack  "  was  sure  the  good  fellows  meant 
no  harm,  but  he  was  courageous  enough  to  face  any  bodily 
dangers,  and  rode  out  in  his  brown  leggings  and  colored 
bandanna,  speaking  persuasively. 

It  was  nearly  twelve  o'clock  when  this  sally  was  made  :  the 
constables  and  magistrates  tried  the  most  pacific  measures, 
and  they  seemed  to  succeed.  There  was  a  rapid  thinning  of 
the  crowd  :  the  most  boisterous  disappeared,  or  seemed  to  do 
so  by  becoming  quiet ;  missiles  ceased  to  fly,  and  a  sufficient 
way  was  cleared  for  voters  along  King  Street.  The  magis- 
trates returned  to  their  quarters,  and  the  constables  took  con- 
venient posts  of  observation.  Mr.  Wace,  who  was  one  of 
Debarry's  committee,  had  suggested  to  the  Rector  that  it 
might  be  wise  to  send  for  the  military  from  Duffield,  with 
orders  that  they  should  station  themselves  at  Hathercote, 
three  miles  off :  there  was  so  much  property  in  the  town  that 
it  would  be  better  to  make  it  secure  against  risks.  But  the 
Rector  felt  that  this  was  not  the  part  of  a  moderate  and  wise 
magistrate,  unless  the  signs  of  riot  recurred.  He  was  a  brave 
man,  and  fond  of  thinking  that  his  own  authority  sufficed  for 
the  maintenance  of  the  general  good  in  Treby. 


318  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 


CHAPTER  XXXII. 

Go  from  me.    Yet  I  feel  that  I  shall  stand 
Henceforward  in  thy  shadow.    Never  more 
Alone  upon  the  threshold  of  my  door 
Of  individual  life,  I  shall  command 
The  uses  of  my  soul,  nor  lift  my  hand 
Serenely  in  the  sunshine  as  before 
Without  the  sense  of  that  which  I  forbore  — 
Thy  touch  upon  the  palm.     The  widest  land 
Doom  takes  to  part  us,  leaves  thy  heart  in  mine 
With  pulses  that  beat  double.     What  I  do 
And  what  I  dream  include  thee,  as  the  wine 
Must  taste  of  its  own  grapes.     And  when  I  sue 
God  for  myself,  He  hears  that  name  of  thine, 
And  sees  within  my  eyes  the  tears  of  two. 

MRS.  BROWNING. 

FELIX  HOLT,  seated  at  his  work  without  his  pupils,  who 
had  asked  for  a  holiday  with  a  notion  that  the  wooden  booths 
promised  some  sort  of  show,  noticed  about  eleven  o'clock  that 
the  noises  which  reached  him  from  the  main  street  were  get- 
ting more  and  more  tumultuous.  He  had  long  seen  bad 
auguries  for  this  election,  but,  like  all  people  who  dread  the 
prophetic  wisdom  that  ends  in  desiring  the  fulfilment  of  its 
own  evil  forebodings,  he  had  checked  himself  with  remember- 
ing that,  though  many  conditions  were  possible  which  might 
bring  on  violence,  there  were  just  as  many  which  might  avert 
it.  There  would,  perhaps,  be  no  other  mischief  than  what  he 
was  already  certain  of.  With  these  thoughts  he  had  sat  down 
quietly  to  his  work,  meaning  not  to  vex  his  soul  by  going  to 
look  on  at  things  he  would  fain  have  made  different  if  he 
could.  But  he  was  of  a  fibre  that  vibrated  too  strongly  to  the 
life  around  him  to  shut  himself  away  in  quiet,  even  from  suf- 
fering and  irremediable  wrong.  As  the  noises  grew  louder, 
and  wrought  more  and  more  strongty  on  his  imagination,  he 
was  obliged  to  lay  down  his  delicate  wheel- work.  His  mother 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  819 

came  from  her  turnip-paring  in  the  kitchen,  where  little  Job 
was  her  companion,  to  observe  that  they  must  be  killing  every- 
body in  the  High  Street,  and  that  the  election,  which  had 
never  been  before  at  Treby,  must  have  come  for  a  judgment ; 
that  there  were  mercies  where  you  did  n't  look  for  them,  and 
that  she  thanked  God  in  His  wisdom  for  making  her  live  up  a 
back  street. 

Felix  snatched  his  cap  and  rushed  out.  But  when  he  got  to 
the  turning  into  the  market-place  the  magistrates  were  already 
on  horseback  there,  the  constables  were  moving  about,  and 
Felix  observed  that  there  was  no  strong  spirit  of  resistance  to 
them.  He  stayed  long  enough  to  see  the  partial  dispersion  of 
the  crowd  and  the  restoration  of  tolerable  quiet,  and  then 
went  back  to  Mrs.  Holt  to  tell  her  that  there  was  nothing  to 
fear  now ;  he  was  going  out  again,  and  she  must  not  be  in  any 
anxiety  at  his  absence.  She  might  set  by  his  dinner  for  him. 

Felix  had  been  thinking  of  Esther  and  her  probable  alarm 
at  the  noises  that  must  have  reached  her  more  distinctly  than 
they  had  reached  him,  for  Maltbouse  Yard  was  removed  but 
a  little  way  from  the  main  street.  Mr.  Lyon  was  away  from 
home,  having  been  called  to  preach  charity  sermons  and  attend 
meetings  in  a  distant  town ;  and  Esther,  with  the  plaintive 
Lyddy  for  her  sole  companion,  was  not  cheerfully  circum- 
stanced. Felix  had  not  been  to  see  her  yet  since  her  father's 
departure,  but  to-day  he  gave  way  to  new  reasons. 

"  Miss  Esther  was  in  the  garret,"  Lyddy  said,  trying  to  see 
what  was  going  on.  But  before  she  was  fetched  she  came 
running  down  the  stairs,  drawn  by  the  knock  at  the  door, 
which  had  shaken  the  small  dwelling. 

"  I  am  so  thankful  to  see  you,"  she  said,  eagerly.  "  Pray 
come  in." 

"\Yhen  she  had  shut  the  parlor  door  behind  them,  Felix  said, 
"  I  suspected  that  you  might  have  been  made  anxious  by  the 
noises.  I  came  to  tell  you  that  things  are  quiet  now.  Though, 
indeed,  you  can  hear  that  they  are." 

"  I  was  frightened,"  said  Esther.  "  The  shouting  and  roar- 
ing of  rude  men  is  so  hideous.  It  is  a  relief  to  me  that  my 
father  is  not  at  home  —  that  he  is  out  of  the  reach  of  any 


320  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  KADICAL. 

danger  he  might  have  fallen  into  if  he  had  been  here.  But  I 
gave  you  credit  for  being  in  the  midst  of  the  danger,"  she 
added,  smiling,  with  a  determination  not  to  show  much  feel- 
ing. "  Sit  down  and  tell  me  what  has  happened." 

They  sat  down  at  the  extremities  of  the  old  black  sofa,  and 
Felix  said  — 

"  To  tell  you  the  truth,  I  had  shut  myself  up,  and  tried  to 
be  as  indifferent  to  the  election  as  if  I  'd  been  one  of  the  fishes 
in  the  Lapp,  till  the  noises  got  too  strong  for  me.  But  I  only 
saw  the  tail  end  of  the  disturbance.  The  poor  noisy  simple- 
tons seemed  to  give  way  before  the  magistrates  and  the  con- 
stables. I  hope  nobody  has  been  much  hurt.  The  fear  is  that 
they  may  turn  out  again  by-and-by ;  their  giving  way  so  soon 
may  not  be  altogether  a  good  sign.  There  's  a  great  number 
of  heavy  fellows  in  the  town.  If  they  go  and  drink  more,  the 
last  end  may  be  worse  than  the  first.  However  —  " 

Felix  broke  off,  as  if  this  talk  were  futile,  clasped  his  hands 
behind  his  head,  and,  leaning  backward,  looked  at  Esther,  who 
was  looking  at  him. 

"  May  I  stay  here  a  little  while  ?  "  he  said,  after  a  moment, 
which  seemed  long. 

"Pray  do,"  said  Esther,  coloring.  To  relieve  herself  she 
took  some  work  and  bowed  her  head  over  her  stitching.  It 
was  in  reality  a  little  heaven  to  her  that  Felix  was  there,  but 
she  saw  beyond  it  —  saw  that  by-and-by  he  would  be  gone,  and 
that  they  should  be  farther  on  their  way,  not  towards  meeting, 
but  parting.  His  will  was  impregnable.  He  was  a  rock,  and 
she  was  no  more  to  him  than  the  white  clinging  mist-cloud. 

"  I  wish  I  could  be  sure  that  you  see  things  just  as  I  do," 
he  said,  abruptly,  after  a  minute's  silence. 

"  I  am  sure  you  see  them  much  more  wisely  than  I  do,"  said 
Esther,  almost  bitterly,  without  looking  up. 

"  There  are  some  people  one  must  wish  to  judge  one  truly. 
Not  to  wish  it  would  be  mere  hardness.  I  know  you  think  I 
am  a  man  without  feeling  —  at  least,  without  strong  affections. 
You  think  I  love  nothing  but  my  own  resolutions." 

"  Suppose  I  reply  in  the  same  sort  of  strain  ?  "  said  Esther, 
with  a  little  toss  of  the  head. 


FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL.  321 

"How?" 

"Why,  that  you  think  me  a  shallow  woman,  incapable  of 
believing  what  is  best  in  you,  setting  down  everything  that  is 
too  high  for  me  as  a  deficiency." 

"  Don't  parry  what  I  say.  Answer  me."  There  was  an  ex- 
pression of  painful  beseeching  in  the  tone  with  which  Felix 
said  this.  Esther  let  her  work  fall  on  her  lap  and  looked  at 
him,  but  she  was  unable  to  speak. 

"  I  want  you  to  tell  me  —  once  —  that  you  know  it  would  be 
easier  to  me  to  give  myself  up  to  loving  and  being  loved,  as 
other  men  do,  when  they  can,  than  to  —  " 

This  breakiug-off  in  speech  was  something  quite  new  in 
Felix.  For  the  first  time  he  had  lost  his  self-possession,  and 
turned  his  eyes  away.  He  was  at  variance  with  himself.  He 
had  begun  what  he  felt  that  he  ought  not  to  finish. 

Esther,  like  a  woman  as  she  was  —  a  woman  waiting  for 
love,  never  able  to  ask  for  it  —  had  her  joy  in  these  signs  of 
her  power ;  but  they  made  her  generous,  not  chary,  as  they 
might  have  done  if  she  had  had  a  pettier  disposition.  She 
said,  with  deep  yet  timid  earnestness  — 

"  What  you  have  chosen  to  do  has  only  convinced  me  that 
your  love  would  be  the  better  worth  having." 

All  the  finest  part  of  Esther's  nature  trembled  in  those 
words.  To  be  right  in  great  memorable  moments,  is  perhaps 
the  thing  we  need  most  desire  for  ourselves. 

Felix  as  quick  as  lightning  turned  his  look  upon  her  again, 
and,  leaning  forward,  took  her  sweet  hand  and  held  it  to  his 
lips  some  moments  before  he  let  it  fall  again  and  raised  his 
head. 

"  We  shall  always  be  the  better  for  thinking  of  each  other," 
he  said,  leaning  his  elbow  on  the  back  of  the  sofa,  and  support- 
ing his  head  as  he  looked  at  her  with  calm  sadness.  "  This 
thing  can  never  come  to  me  twice  over.  It  is  my  knighthood. 
That  was  always  a  business  of  great  cost." 

He  smiled  at  her,  but  she  sat  biting  her  inner  lip,  and  press- 
ing her  hands  together.  She  desired  to  be  worthy  of  what 
she  reverenced  in  Felix,  but  the  inevitable  renunciation  was 
too  difficult.  She  saw  herself  wandering  through  the  future 

VOL.    III.  21 


322  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL. 

weak  and  forsaken.  The  charming  sauciness  was  all  gone 
from  her  face,  but  the  memory  of  it  made  this  childlike  de- 
pendent sorrow  all  the  more  touching. 

"  Tell  me  what  you  would  —  "  Felix  burst  out,  leaning  nearer 
to  her ;  but  the  next  instant  he  started  up,  went  to  the  table, 
took  his  cap  in  his  hand,  and  came  in  front  of  her. 

"  Good-by,"  he  said,  very  gently,  not  daring  to  put  out  his 
hand.  But  Esther  put  up  hers  instead  of  speaking.  He  just 
pressed  it  and  then  went  away. 

She  heard  the  doors  close  behind  him,  and  felt  free  to  be 
miserable.  She  cried  bitterly.  If  she  might  have  married 
Felix  Holt,  she  could  have  been  a  good  woman.  She  felt  no 
trust  that  she  could  ever  be  good  without  him. 

Felix  reproached  himself.  He  would  have  done  better  not 
to  speak  in  that  way.  But  the  prompting  to  which  he  had 
chiefly  listened  had  been  the  desire  to  prove  to  Esther  that  he 
set  a  high  value  on  her  feelings.  He  could  not  help  seeing 
that  he  was  very  important  to  her ;  and  he  was  too  simple  and 
sincere  a  man  to  ape  a  sort  of  humility  which  would  not  have 
made  him  any  the  better  if  he  had  possessed  it.  Such  pre- 
tences turn  our  lives  into  sorry  dramas.  And  Felix  wished 
Esther  to  know  that  her  love  was  dear  to  him  as  the  beloved 
dead  are  dear.  He  felt  that  they  must  not  marry  —  that 
they  would  ruin  each  other's  lives.  But  he  had  longed  for 
her  to  know  fully  that  his  will  to  be  always  apart  from  her 
was  renunciation,  not  an  easy  preference.  In  this  he  was 
thoroughly  generous;  and  yet,  now  some  subtle,  mysterious 
conjuncture  of  impressions  and  circumstances  had  made  him 
speak,  he  questioned  the  wisdom  of  what  he  had  done.  Ex- 
press confessions  give  definiteness  to  memories  that  might 
more  easily  melt  away  without  them ;  and  Felix  felt  for 
Esther's  pain  as  the  strong  soldier,  who  can  march  on  hunger- 
ing without  fear  that  he  shall  faint,  feels  for  the  young  brother 
—  the  maiden-cheeked  conscript  whose  load  is  too  heavy  for 
him. 


FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL.  323 


CHAPTER   XXXIII. 

Mischief,  thou  art  afoot. 

Julius  Ccesar. 

FELIX  could  not  go  home  again  immediately  after  quitting 
Esther.  He  got  out  of  the  town,  skirted  it  a  little  while, 
looking  across  the  December  stillness  of  the  fields,  and  then 
re-entered  it  by  the  main  road  into  the  market-place,  thinking 
that,  after  all,  it  would  be  better  for  him  to  look  at  the  busy 
doings  of  men  than  to  listen  in  solitude  to  the  voices  within 
him ;  and  he  wished  to  know  how  things  were  going  on. 

It  was  now  nearly  half-past  one,  and  Felix  perceived  that 
the  street  was  filling  with  more  than  the  previous  crowd.  By 
the  time  he  got  in  front  of  the  booths,  he  was  himself  so  sur- 
rounded by  men  who  were  being  thrust  hither  and  thither  that 
retreat  would  have  been  impossible;  and  he  went  where  he 
was  obliged  to  go,  although  his  height  and  strength  were 
above  the  average  even  in  a  crowd  where  there  were  so 
many  heavy -armed  workmen  used  to  the  pickaxe.  Almost 
all  shabby-coated  Trebians  must  have  been  there,  but  the 
entries  and  back  streets  of  the  town  did  not  supply  the  mass 
of  the  crowd ;  and  besides  the  rural  in-comers,  both  of  the 
more  decent  and  the  rougher  sort,  Felix,  as  he  was  pushed 
along,  thought  he  discerned  here  and  there  men  of  that 
keener  aspect  which  is  only  common  in  manufacturing  towns. 

But  at  present  there  was  no  evidence  of  any  distinctly  mis- 
chievous design.  There  was  only  evidence  that  the  majority 
of  the  crowd  were  excited  with  drink,  and  that  their  action 
could  hardly  be  calculated  on  more  than  those  of  oxen  and 
pigs  congregated  amidst  hootings  and  pushings.  The  confused 
deafening  shouts,  the  incidental  fighting,  the  knocking  over, 
pulling  and  scuffling,  seemed  to  increase  every  moment.  Such 
of  the  constables  as  were  mixed  with  the  crowd  were  quite 
helpless ;  and  if  an  official  staff  was  seen  above  the  heads,  it 


324  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL. 

moved  about  fitfully,  showing  as  little  sign  of  a  guiding  hand 
as  the  summit  of  a  buoy  on  the  waves.  Doubtless  many  hurts 
and  bruises  had  been  received,  but  no  one  could  know  the 
amount  of  injuries  that  were  widely  scattered. 

It  was  clear  that  no  more  voting  could  be  done,  and  the  poll 
had  been  adjourned.  The  probabilities  of  serious  mischief 
had  grown  strong  enough  to  prevail  over  the  Rector's  objec- 
tion to  getting  military  aid  within  reach ;  and  when  Felix  re- 
entered  the  town,  a  galloping  messenger  had  already  been 
despatched  to  Duffield.  The  Rector  wished  to  ride  out  again, 
and  read  the  Riot  Act  from  a  point  where  he  could  be  better 
heard  than  from  the  window  of  the  Marquis ;  but  Mr.  Crow, 
the  high  constable,  who  had  returned  from  closer  observation, 
insisted  that  the  risk  would  be  too  great.  New  special  con- 
stables had  been  sworn  in,  but  Mr.  Crow  said  prophetically 
that  if  once  mischief  began,  the  mob  was  past  caring  for 
constables. 

But  the  Rector's  voice  was  ringing  and  penetrating,  and 
when  he  appeared  on  the  narrow  balcony  and  read  the  for- 
mula, commanding  all  men  to  go  to  their  homes  or  about  their 
lawful  business,  there  was  a  strong  transient  effect.  Every 
one  within  hearing  listened,  and  for  a  few  moments  after  the 
final  words,  "  God  save  the  King ! "  the  comparative  silence 
continued.  Then  the  people  began  to  move,  the  buzz  rose 
again,  and  grew,  and  grew,  till  it  turned  to  shouts  and  roar- 
ing as  before.  The  movement  was  that  of  a  flood  hemmed  in ; 
it  carried  nobody  away.  Whether  the  crowd  would  obey  the 
order  to  disperse  themselves  within  an  hour,  was  a  doubt  that 
approached  nearer  to  a  negative  certainty. 

Presently  Mr.  Crow,  who  held  himself  a  tactician,  took  a  well- 
intentioned  step,  which  went  far  to  fulfil  his  own  prophecy. 
He  had  arrived  with  the  magistrates  by  a  back  way  at  the 
Seven  Stars,  and  here  again  the  Riot  Act  was  read  from  a 
window,  with  much  the  same  result  as  before.  The  Rector 
had  returned  by  the  same  way  to  the  Marquis,  as  the  head- 
quarters most  suited  for  administration,  but  Mr.  Crow  re- 
mained at  the  other  extremity  of  King  Street,  where  some 
awe-striking  presence  was  certainly  needed.  Seeing  that  the 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  325 

time  was  passing,  and  all  effect  from  the  voice  of  law  had 
disappeared,  he  showed  himself  at  an  upper  window,  and  ad- 
dressed the  crowd,  telling  them  that  the  soldiers  had  been 
sent  for,  and  that  if  they  did  not  disperse  they  would  have 
cavalry  upon  them  instead  of  constables. 

Mr.  Crow,  like  some  other  high  constables  more  celebrated 
in  history,  "  enjoyed  a  bad  reputation ; "  that  is  to  say,  he  en- 
joyed many  things  which  caused  his  reputation  to  be  bad,  and 
he  was  anything  but  popular  in  Treby.  It  is  probable  that  a 
pleasant  message  would  have  lost  something  from  his  lips, 
and  what  he  actually  said  was  so  unpleasant,  that,  instead  of 
persuading  the  crowd,  it  appeared  to  enrage  them.  Some  one, 
snatching  a  raw  potato  from  a  sack  in  the  greengrocer's  shop 
behind  him,  threw  it  at  the  constable,  and  hit  him  on  the 
mouth.  Straightway  raw  potatoes  and  turnips  were  flying  by 
twenties  at  the  windows  of  the  Seven  Stars,  and  the  panes 
were  smashed.  Felix,  who  was  half-way  up  the  street,  heard 
the  voices  turning  to  a  savage  roar,  and  saw  a  rush  towards 
the  hardware  shop,  which  furnished  more  effective  weapons 
and  missiles  than  turnips  and  potatoes.  Then  a  cry  ran  along 
that  the  Tories  had  sent  for  the  soldiers,  and  if  those  among 
the  mob  who  called  themselves  Tories  as  willingly  as  anything 
else  were  disposed  to  take  whatever  called  itself  the  Tory  side, 
they  only  helped  the  main  result  of  reckless  disorder. 

But  there  were  proofs  that  the  predominant  will  of  the 
crowd  was  against  "Debarry's  men,"  and  in  favor  of  Tran- 
some.  Several  shops  were  invaded,  and  they  were  all  of  them 
"  Tory  shops."  The  tradesmen  who  could  do  so,  now  locked 
their  doors  and  barricaded  their  windows  within.  There  was 
a  panic  among  the  householders  of  this  hitherto  peaceful  town, 
and  a  general  anxiety  for  the  military  to  arrive.  The  Rector 
was  in  painful  anxiety  on  this  head :  he  had  sent  out  two  mes- 
sengers as  secretly  as  he  could  towards  Hathercote,  to  order 
the  soldiers  to  ride  straight  to  the  town ;  but  he  feared  that 
these  messengers  had  been  somehow  intercepted. 

It  was  three  o'clock :  more  than  an  hour  had  elapsed  since 
the  reading  of  the  Riot  Act.  The  Rector  of  Treby  Magna 
wrote  an  indignant  message  and  sent  it  to  the  Ram,  to 


326  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

Mr.  Lingon,  the  Kector  of  Little  Treby,  saying  that  there  was 
evidently  a  Badical  animus  in  the  mob,  and  that  Mr.  Tran- 
sonie's  party  should  hold  themselves  peculiarly  responsible. 
Where  was  Mr.  Jermyn? 

Mr.  Lingon  replied  that  he  was  going  himself  out  towards 
Duffield  to  see  after  the  soldiers.  As  for  Jermyn,  he  was  not 
that  attorney's  sponsor :  he  believed  that  Jermyii  was  gone 
away  somewhere  on  business  —  to  fetch  voters. 

A  serious  effort  was  now  being  made  by  all  the  civil  force 
at  command.  The  December  day  would  soon  be  passing  into 
evening,  and  all  disorder  would  be  aggravated  by  obscurity. 
The  horrors  of  fire  were  as  likely  to  happen  as  any  minor  evil. 
The  constables,  as  many  of  them  as  could  do  so,  armed  them- 
selves with  carbines  and  sabres :  all  the  respectable  inhabi- 
tants who  had  any  courage,  prepared  themselves  to  struggle 
for  order ;  and  many  felt  with  Mr.  Wace  and  Mr.  Tiliot  that 
the  nearest  duty  was  to  defend  the  breweries  and  the  spirit 
and  wine  vaults,  where  the  property  was  of  a  sort  at  once 
most  likely  to  be  threatened  and  most  dangerous  in  its  effects. 
The  Kector,  with  fine  determination,  got  on  horseback  again, 
as  the  best  mode  of  leading  the  constables,  who  could  only  act 
efficiently  in  a  close  body.  By  his  direction  the  column  of 
armed  men  avoided  the  main  street,  and  made  their  way  along 
a  back  road,  that  they  might  occupy  the  two  chief  lanes  lead- 
ing to  the  wine-vaults  and  the  brewery,  and  bear  down  on  the 
crowd  from  these  openings,  which  it  was  especially  desirable 
to  guard. 

Meanwhile  Felix  Holt  had  been  hotly  occupied  in  King 
Street.  After  the  first  window-smashing  at  the  Seven  Stars, 
there  was  a  sufficient  reason  for  damaging  that  inn  to  the 
utmost.  The  destructive  spirit  tends  towards  completeness  ; 
and  any  object  once  maimed  or  otherwise  injured,  is  as  readily 
doomed  by  unreasoning  men  as  by  unreasoning  boys.  Also 
the  Seven  Stars  sheltered  Spratt ;  and  to  some  Sproxton  men 
in  front  of  that  inn  it  was  exasperating  that  Spratt  should  be 
safe  and  sound  on  a  day  when  blows  were  going,  and  justice 
might  be  rendered.  And  again,  there  was  the  general  desira- 
bleness of  being  inside  a  public-house. 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  327 

Felix  had  at  last  been  willingly  urged  on  to  this  spot. 
Hitherto  swayed  by  the  crowd,  he  had  been  able  to  do  noth- 
ing but  defend  himself  and  keep  on  his  legs ;  but  he  foresaw 
that  the  people  would  burst  into  the  inn ;  he  heard  cries 
of  "  Spratt !  "  "  Fetch  him  out ! "  "  We  '11  pitch  him  out ! " 
"  Pummel  him  ! "  It  was  not  unlikely  that  lives  might  be 
sacrificed ;  and  it  was  intolerable  to  Felix  to  be  witnessing  the 
blind  outrages  of  this  mad  crowd,  and  yet  be  doing  nothing 
to  counteract  them.  Even  some  vain  effort  would  satisfy 
him  better  than  mere  gazing.  Within  the  walls  of  the  inn 
he  might  save  some  one.  He  went  in  with  a  miscellaneous 
set,  who  dispersed  themselves  with  different  objects  —  some 
to  the  tap-room,  and  to  search  for  the  cellar ;  some  up-stairs 
to  search  in  all  rooms  for  Spratt,  or  any  one  else,  perhaps,  as 
a  temporary  scapegoat  for  Spratt.  Guided  by  the  screams  of 
women,  Felix  at  last  got  to  a  high  up-stairs  passage,  where  the 
landlady  and  some  of  her  servants  were  running  away  in  help- 
less terror  from  two  or  three  half-tipsy  men,  who  had  been 
emptying  a  spirit-decanter  in  the  bar.  Assuming  the  tone 
of  a  mob-leader,  he  cried  out,  "  Here,  boys,  here 's  better  fun 
this  way — come  with  me!"  and  drew  the  men  back  with 
him  along  the  passage.  They  reached  the  lower  staircase 
in  time  to  see  the  unhappy  Spratt  being  dragged,  coatless 
and  screaming,  down  the  steps.  No  one  at  present  was  strik- 
ing or  kicking  him ;  it  seemed  as  if  he  were  being  reserved 
for  punishment  on  some  wider  area,  where  the  satisfaction 
might  be  more  generally  shared.  Felix  followed  close,  deter- 
mined, if  he  could,  to  rescue  both  assailers  and  assaulted  from 
the  worst  consequences.  His  mind  was  busy  with  possible 
devices. 

Down  the  stairs,  out  along  the  stones  through  the  gateway, 
Spratt  was  dragged  as  a  mere  heap  of  linen  and  cloth  rags. 
When  he  was  got  outside  the  gateway,  there  was  an  immense 
hooting  and  roaring,  though  many  there  had  no  grudge  against 
him,  and  only  guessed  that  others  had  the  grudge.  But  this 
was  the  narrower  part  of  the  street ;  it  widened  as  it  went 
onwards,  and  Spratt  was  dragged  on,  his  enemies  crying, 
"  We  '11  make  a  ring  —  we  '11  see  how  frightened  he  looks  ! " 


328  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

"  Kick  him,  and  have  done  with  him,"  Felix  heard  another 
say.  "  Let 's  go  to  Tiliot's  vaults  —  there 's  more  gin  there ! " 

Here  were  two  hideous  threats.  In  dragging  Spratt  onward 
the  people  were  getting  very  near  to  the  lane  leading  up  to 
Tiliot's.  Felix  kept  as  close  as  he  could  to  the  threatened 
victim.  He  had  thrown  away  his  own  stick,  and  carried  a 
bludgeon  which  had  escaped  from  the  hands  of  an  invader  at 
the  Seven  Stars ;  his  head  was  bare ;  he  looked,  to  undiscern- 
ing  eyes,  like  a  leading  spirit  of  the  mob.  In  this  condition 
he  was  observed  by  several  persons  looking  anxiously  from 
their  upper  windows,  and  finally  observed  to  push  himself,  by 
violent  efforts,  close  behind  the  dragged  man. 

Meanwhile  the  foremost  among  the  constables,  who,  coming 
by  the  back  way,  had  now  reached  the  opening  of  Tiliot's  Lane, 
discerned  that  the  crowd  had  a  victim  amongst  them.  One 
spirited  fellow,  named  Tucker,  who  was  a  regular  constable, 
feeling  that  no  time  was  to  be  lost  in  meditation,  called  on  his 
neighbor  to  follow  him,  and  with  the  sabre  that  happened  to 
be  his  weapon  got  a  way  for  himself  where  he  was  not  ex- 
pected, by  dint  of  quick  resolution.  At  this  moment  Spratt 
had  been  let  go  —  had  been  dropped,  in  fact,  almost  lifeless 
with  terror,  on  the  street  stones,  and  the  men  round  him  had 
retreated  for  a  little  space,  as  if  to  amuse  themselves  with 
looking  at  him.  Felix  had  taken  his  opportunity ;  and  seeing 
the  first  step  towards  a  plan  he  was  bent  on,  he  sprang  for- 
ward close  to  the  cowering  Spratt.  As  he  did  this,  Tucker 
had  cut  his  way  to  the  spot,  and  imagining  Felix  to  be  the 
destined  executioner  of  Spratt  —  for  any  discrimination  of 
Tucker's  lay  in  his  muscles  rather  than  his  eyes — he  rushed 
up  to  Felix,  meaning  to  collar  him  and  throw  him  down.  But 
Felix  had  rapid  senses  and  quick  thoughts ;  he  discerned  the 
situation ;  he  chose  between  two  evils.  Quick  as  lightning  he 
frustrated  the  constable,  fell  upon  him,  and  tried  to  master 
his  weapon.  In  the  struggle,  which  was  watched  without  in- 
terference, the  constable  fell  undermost,  and  Felix  got  his 
weapon.  He  started  up  with  the  bare  sabre  in  his  hand.  The 
crowd  round  him  cried  "  Hurray  !  "  with  a  sense  that  he  was 
on  their  side  against  the  constable.  Tucker  did  not  rise 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  329 

immediately ;  but  Felix  did  not  imagine  that  he  was  much 
hurt. 

"  Don't  touch  him ! "  said  Felix.  "  Let  him  go.  Here,  bring 
Spratt,  and  follow  ine." 

Felix  was  perfectly  conscious  that  he  was  in  the  midst  of  a 
tangled  business.  But  he  had  chiefly  before  his  imagination 
the  horrors  that  might  come  if  the  mass  of  wild  chaotic  desires 
and  impulses  around  him  were  not  diverted  from  any  further 
attack  on  places  where  they  would  get  in  the  midst  of  intoxi- 
cating and  inflammable  materials.  It  was  not  a  moment  in 
which  a  spirit  like  his  could  calculate  the  effect  of  misunder- 
standing as  to  himself :  nature  never  makes  men  who  are  at 
once  energetically  sympathetic  and  minutely  calculating.  He 
believed  he  had  the  power,  and  he  was  resolved  to  try,  to  carry 
the  dangerous  mass  out  of  mischief  till  the  military  came  to 
awe  them  —  which  he  supposed,  from  Mr.  Crow's  announce- 
ment long  ago,  must  be  a  near  event. 

He  was  followed  the  more  willingly,  because  Tiliot's  lane 
was  seen  by  the  hindmost  to  be  now  defended  by  constables, 
some  of  whom  had  firearms ;  and  where  there  is  no  strong 
counter-movement,  any  proposition  to  do  something  unspeci- 
fied stimulates  stupid  curiosity.  To  many  of  the  Sproxton 
men  who  were  within  sight  of  him,  Felix  was  known  per- 
sonally, and  vaguely  believed  to  be  a  man  who  meant  many 
queer  things,  not  at  all  of  an  every-day  kind.  Pressing  along 
like  a  leader,  with  the  sabre  in  his  hand,  and  inviting  them  to 
bring  on  Spratt,  there  seemed  a  better  reason  for  following 
him  than  for  doing  anything  else.  A  man  with  a  definite  will 
and  an  energetic  personality  acts  as  a  sort  of  flag  to  draw  and 
bind  together  the  foolish  units  of  a  mob.  It  was  on  this  sort 
of  influence  over  men  whose  mental  state  was  a  mere  medley 
of  appetites  and  confused  impressions,  that  Felix  had  dared 
to  count.  He  hurried  them  along  with  words  of  invitation, 
telling  them  to  hold  up  Spratt  and  not  drag  him  ;  and  those 
behind  followed  him,  with  a  growing  belief  that  he  had  some 
design  worth  knowing,  while  those  in  front  were  urged  along 
partly  by  the  same  notion,  partly  by  the  sense  that  there 
was  a  motive  in  those  behind  them,  not  knowing  what  the 


330  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

motive  was.  It  was  that  mixture  of  pushing  forward  and 
being  pushed  forward,  which  is  a  brief  history  of  most  human 
things. 

What  Felix  really  intended  to  do,  was  to  get  the  crowd  by 
the  nearest  way  out  of  the  town,  and  induce  them  to  skirt  it 
on  the  north  side  with  him,  keeping  up  in  them  the  idea  that 
he  was  leading  them  to  execute  some  stratagem  by  which  they 
would  surprise  something  worth  attacking,  and  circumvent 
the  constables  who  were  defending  the  lanes.  In  the  mean 
time  he  trusted  that  the  soldiers  would  have  arrived,  and  with 
this  sort  of  mob  which  was  animated  by  no  real  political  pas- 
sion or  fury  against  social  distinctions,  it  was  in  the  highest 
degree  unlikely  that  there  would  be  any  resistance  to  a  mili- 
tary force.  The  presence  of  fifty  soldiers  would  probably  be 
enough  to  scatter  the  rioting  hundreds.  How  numerous  the 
mob  was,  no  one  ever  knew :  many  inhabitants  afterwards 
were  ready  to  swear  that  there  must  have  been  at  least  two 
thousand  rioters.  Felix  knew  he  was  incurring  great  risks ; 
but  "  his  blood  was  up  : "  we  hardly  allow  enough  in  common 
life  for  the  results  of  that  enkindled  passionate  enthusiasm 
which,  under  other  conditions,  makes  world-famous  deeds. 

He  was  making  for  a  point  where  the  street  branched  off 
on  one  side  towards  a  speedy  opening  between  hedgerows,  on 
the  other  towards  the  shabby  wideness  of  Pollard's  End.  At 
this  forking  of  the  street  there  was  a  large  space,  in  the 
centre  of  which  there  was  a  small  stone  platform,  mounting 
by  three  steps,  with  an  old  green  finger-post  upon  it.  Felix 
went  straight  to  this  platform  and  stepped  upon  it,  crying 
"  Halt ! "  in  a  loud  voice  to  the  men  behind  and  before  him, 
and  calling  to  those  who  held  Spratt  to  bring  him  there.  All 
came  to  a  stand  with  faces  towards  the  finger-post,  and  per- 
haps for  the  first  time  the  extremities  of  the  crowd  got  a 
definite  idea  that  a  man  with  a  sabre  in  his  hand  was  taking 
the  command. 

"  Now  ! "  said  Felix,  when  Spratt  had  been  broiTght  on  to 
the  stone  platform,  faint  and  trembling,  "has  anybody  got 
cord  ?  if  not,  handkerchiefs  knotted  fast ;  give  them  to  me." 

He  drew  out  his  own  handkerchief,  and  two  or  three  others 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  331 

were  mustered  and  handed  to  him.  He  ordered  them  to  be 
knotted  together,  while  curious  eyes  were  fixed  on  him.  Was 
he  going  to  have  Spratt  hanged  ?  Felix  kept  fast  hold  of  his 
weapon,  and  ordered  others  to  act. 

"  Now,  put  it  round  his  waist,  wind  his  arms  in,  draw  them 
a  little  backward  —  so  !  and  tie  it  fast  on  the  other  side  of 
the  post." 

When  that  was  done,  Felix  said,  imperatively  — 

"  Leave  him  there  —  we  shall  come  back  to  him ;  let  us 
make  haste  ;  march  along,  lads  !  Up  Park  Street  and  down 
Hobb's  Lane." 

It  was  the  best  chance  he  could  think  of  for  saving  Spratt's 
life.  And  he  succeeded.  The  pleasure  of  seeing  the  helpless 
man  tied  up  sufficed  for  the  moment,  if  there  were  any  who 
had  ferocity  enough  to  count  much  on  coming  back  to  him. 
Nobody's  imagination  represented  the  certainty  that  some  one 
out  of  the  houses  at  hand  would  soon  come  and  untie  him 
when  he  was  left  alone. 

And  the  rioters  pushed  up  Park  Street,  a  noisy  stream, 
with  Felix  still  in  the  midst  of  them,  though  he  was  laboring 
hard  to  get  his  way  to  the  front.  He  wished  to  determine 
the  course  of  the  crowd  along  a  by-road  called  Hobb's  Lane, 
which  would  have  taken  them  to  the  other  —  the  Duffield  end 
of  the  town.  He  urged  several  of  the  men  round  him,  one 
of  whom  was  no  less  a  person  than  the  big  Dredge,  our  old 
Sproxton  acquaintance,  to  get  forward,  and  be  sure  that  all 
the  fellows  would  go  down  the  lane,  else  they  would  spoil 
sport.  Hitherto  Felix  had  been  successful,  and  he  had  gone 
along  with  an  unbroken  impulse.  But  soon  something  oc- 
curred which  brought  with  a  terrible  shock  the  sense  that  his 
plan  might  turn  out  to  be  as  mad  as  all  bold  projects  are  seen 
to  be  when  they  have  failed. 

Mingled  with  the  more  headlong  and  half-drunken  crowd 
there  were  some  sharp-visaged  men  who  loved  the  irration- 
ality of  riots  for  something  else  than  its  own  sake,  and  who 
at  present  were  not  so  much  the  richer  as  they  desired  to  be, 
for  the  pains  they  had  taken  in  coming  to  the  Treby  election, 
induced  by  certain  prognostics  gathered  at  Duffield  on  the 


332  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

nomination-day  that  there  might  be  the  conditions  favorable 
to  that  confusion  which  was  always  a  harvest-time.  It  was 
known  to  some  of  these  sharp  men  that  Park  Street  led  out 
towards  the  grand  house  of  Treby  Manor,  which  was  as  good 
—  nay,  better  for  their  purpose  than  the  bank.  While  Felix 
was  entertaining  his  ardent  purpose,  these  other  sons  of  Adam 
were  entertaining  another  ardent  purpose  of  their  peculiar 
sort,  and  the  moment  was  come  when  they  were  to  have  their 
triumph. 

From  the  front  ranks  backward  towards  Felix  there  ran  a 
new  summons  —  a  new  invitation. 

"  Let  us  go  to  Treby  Manor  !  " 

From  that  moment  Felix  was  powerless ;  a  new  definite 
suggestion  overrode  his  vaguer  influence.  There  was  a  deter- 
mined rush  past  Hobb's  Lane,  and  not  down  it.  Felix  was 
carried  along  too.  He  did  not  know  whether  to  wish  the 
contrary.  Once  on  the  road,  out  of  the  town,  with  openings 
into  fields  and  with  the  wide  park  at  hand,  it  would  have 
been  easy  for  him  to  liberate  himself  from  the  crowd.  At 
first  it  seemed  to  him  the  better  part  to  do  this,  and  to  get 
back  to  the  town  as  fast  as  he  could,  in  the  hope  of  finding 
the  military  and  getting  a  detachment  to  come  and  save  the 
Manor.  But  he  reflected  that  the  course  of  the  mob  had  been 
sufficiently  seen,  and  that  there  were  plenty  of  people  in 
Park  Street  to  carry  the  information  faster  than  he  could.  It 
seemed  more  necessary  that  he  should  secure  the  presence  of 
some  help  for  the  family  at  the  Manor  by  going  there  him- 
self. The  Debarrys  were  not  of  the  class  he  was  wont  to  be 
anxious  about ;  but  Felix  Holt's  conscience  was  alive  to  the 
accusation  that  any  danger  they  might  be  in  now  was  brought 
on  by  a  deed  of  his.  In  these  moments  of  bitter  vexation  and 
disappointment,  it  did  occur  to  him  that  very  unpleasant  con- 
sequences might  be  hanging  over  him  of  a  kind  quite  different 
from  inward  dissatisfaction ;  but  it  was  useless  now  to  think  of 
averting  such  consequences.  As  he  was  pressed  along  with  the 
multitude  into  Treby  Park,  his  very  movement  seemed  to  him 
only  an  image  of  the  day's  fatalities,  in  which  the  multitudi- 
nous small  wickednesses  of  small  selfish  ends,  really  undirected 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  333 

towards  any  larger  result,  had  issued  in  widely  shared  mis- 
chief that  might  yet  be  hideous. 

The  light  was  declining  :  already  the  candles  shone  through 
many  windows  of  the  Manor.  Already  the  foremost  part  of 
the  crowd  had  burst  into  the  offices,  and  adroit  men  were  busy 
in  the  right  places  to  find  plate,  after  setting  others  to  force 
the  butler  into  unlocking  the  cellars  ;  and  Felix  had  only  just 
been  able  to  force  his  way  on  to  the  front  terrace,  with  the 
hope  of  getting  to  the  rooms  where  he  would  find  the  ladies 
of  the  household  and  comfort  them  with  the  assurance  that 
rescue  must  soon  come,  when  the  sound  of  horses'  feet  con- 
vinced him  that  the  rescue  was  nearer  than  he  had  expected. 
Just  as  he  heard  the  horses,  he  had  approached  the  large 
window  of  a  room,  where  a  brilliant  light  suspended  from  the 
ceiling  showed  him  a  group  of  women  clinging  together  in 
terror.  Others  of  the  crowd  were  pushing  their  way  up  the 
terrace-steps  and  gravel-slopes  at  various  points.  Hearing  the 
horses,  he  kept  his  post  in  front  of  the  window,  and,  motion- 
ing with  his  sabre,  cried  out  to  the  on-comers,  "  Keep  back ! 
I  hear  the  soldiers  coming."  Some  scrambled  back,  some 
paused  automatically. 

The  louder  and  louder  sound  of  the  hoofs  changed  its  pace 
and  distribution.  "  Halt  1  Fire  !  "  Bang  !  bang  !  bang  !  — 
came  deafening  the  ears  of  the  men  on  the  terrace. 

Before  they  had  time  or  nerve  to  move,  there  was  a  rushing 
sound  closer  to  them  —  again  "  Fire  !  "  a  bullet  whizzed,  and 
passed  through  Felix  Holt's  shoulder  —  the  shoulder  of  the 
arm  that  held  the  naked  weapon  which  shone  in  the  light 
from  the  window. 

Felix  fell.  The  rioters  ran  confusedly,  like  terrified  sheep. 
Some  of  the  soldiers,  tiirning,  drove  them  along  with  the  flat 
of  their  swords.  The  greater  difficulty  was  to  clear  the  in- 
vaded offices. 

The  Rector,  who  with  another  magistrate  and  several  other 
gentlemen  on  horseback  had  accompanied  the  soldiers,  now 
jumped  on  to  the  terrace,  and  hurried  to  the  ladies  of  the 
family. 

Presently  there  was  a  group  round  Felix,  who  had  fainted, 


334  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL. 

and,  reviving,  had  fainted  again.  He  had  had  little  food  dur- 
ing the  day,  and  had  been  overwrought.  Two  of  the  group 
were  civilians,  but  only  one  of  them  knew  Felix,  the  other 
being  a  magistrate  not  resident  in  Treby.  The  one  who  knew 
Felix  was  Mr.  John  Johnson,  whose  zeal  for  the  public  peace 
had  brought  him  from  Duffield  when  he  heard  that  the  soldiers 
were  summoned. 

"  I  know  this  man  very  well,"  said  Mr.  Johnson.  "  He  is  a 
dangerous  character  —  quite  revolutionary." 

It  was  a  weary  night ;  and  the  next  day,  Felix,  whose  wound 
was  declared  trivial,  was  lodged  in  Loamford  Jail.  There 
were  three  charges  against  him  :  that  he  had  assaulted  a  con- 
stable, that  he  had  committed  manslaughter  (Tucker  was  dead 
from  spinal  concussion),  and  that  he  had  led  a  riotous  on- 
slaught on  a  dwelling-house. 

Four  other  men  were  committed :  one  of  them  for  possess- 
ing himself  of  a  gold  cup  with  the  Debarry  arms  on  it ;  the 
three  others,  one  of  whom  was  the  collier  Dredge,  for  riot  and 
assault. 

That  morning  Treby  town  was  no  longer  in  terror ;  but  it 
was  in  much  sadness.  Other  men,  more  innocent  than  the 
hated  Spratt,  were  groaning  under  severe  bodily  injuries. 
And  poor  Tucker's  corpse  was  not  the  only  one  that  had  been 
lifted  from  the  pavement.  It  is  true  that  none  grieved  much 
for  the  other  dead  man,  unless  it  be  grief  to  say,  "  Poor  old 
fellow ! "  He  had  been  trampled  upon,  doubtless,  where  he 
fell  drunkeuly,  near  the  entrance  of  the  Seven  Stars.  This 
second  corpse  was  old  Tommy  Trounsem,  the  bill-sticker  — 
otherwise  Thomas  Transome,  the  last  of  a  very  old  family- 
line. 


FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL.  335 


CHAPTER  XXXIV. 

The  fields  are  hoary  with  December's  frost. 

I  too  am  hoary  with  the  chills  of  age. 

But  through  the  fields  and  through  the  untrodden  woods 

Is  rest  and  stillness  —  only  in  my  heart 

The  pall  of  winter  shrouds  a  throbbing  life. 

A  WEEK  after  that  Treby  riot,  Harold  Transome  was 
some  Court.  He  had  returned  from  a  hasty  visit  to  town  to 
keep  his  Christmas  at  this  delightful  country  home,  not  in  the 
best  Christmas  spirits.  He  had  lost  the  election ;  but  if  that 
had  been  his  only  annoyance,  he  had  good  humor  and  good  sense 
enough  to  have  borne  it  as  well  as  most  men,  and  to  have  paid 
the  eight  or  nine  thousand,  which  had  been  the  price  of  ascer- 
taining that  he  was  not  to  sit  in  the  next  Parliament,  without 
useless  grumbling.  But  the  disappointments  of  life  can  never, 
any  more  than  its  pleasures,  be  estimated  singly;  and  the, 
healthiest  and  most  agreeable  of  men  is  exposed  to  that  coinci- 
dence of  various  vexations,  each  heightening  the  effect  of  the, 
other,  which  may  produce  in  him  something  corresponding  to 
the  spontaneous  and  externally  unaccountable  moodiness  of  the 
morbid  and  disagreeable. 

Harold  might  not  have  grieved  much  at  a  small  riot  in  Treby, 
even  if  it  had  caused  some  expenses  to  fall  on  the  county ;  but 
the  turn  which  the  riot  had  actually  taken  was  a  bitter  morsel  for 
rumination,  on  more  grounds  than  one.  However  the  disturb- 
ances had  arisen  and  been  aggravated  —  and  probably  no  one 
knew  the  whole  truth  on  these  points — the  conspicuous,  grav- 
est incidents  had  all  tended  to  throw  the  blame  on  the  Radical 
party,  that  is  to  say,  on  Transome  and  on  Transome's  agents ; 
and  so  far  the  candidateship  and  its  results  had  done  Harold 
dishonor  in  the  county:  precisely  the  opposite  effect  to  that 
which  was  a  dear  object  of  his  ambition.  More  than  this, 
Harold's  conscience  was  active  enough  to  be  very  unpleasantly 
affected  by  what  had  befallen  Felix  Holt.  His  memory,  always 


836  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  EADICAL. 

good,  was  particularly  vivid  in  its  retention  of  Felix  Holt's 
complaint  to  him  about  the  treating  of  the  Sproxton  men,  and 
of  the  subsequent  irritating  scene  in  Jermyn's  office,  when  the 
personage  with  the  inauspicious  name  of  Johnson  had  expounded 
to  him  the  impossibility  of  revising  an  electioneering  scheme 
once  begun,  and  of  turning  your  vehicle  back  when  it  had 
already  begun  to  roll  downhill.  Remembering  Felix  Holt's 
words  of  indignant  warning  about  hiring  men  with  drink  in 
them  to  make  a  noise,  Harold  could  not  resist  the  urgent  im- 
pression that  the  offences  for  which  Felix  was  committed  were 
fatalities,  not  brought  about  by  any  willing  co-operation  of  his 
with  the  rioters,  but  arising  probably  from  some  ill-judged 
efforts  to  counteract  their  violence.  And  this  impression, 
which  insisted  on  growing  into  a  conviction,  became  in  one  of 
its  phases  an  uneasy  sense  that  he  held  evidence  which  would 
at  once  tend  to  exonerate  Felix  and  to  place  himself  and  his 
agents  in  anything  but  a  desirable  light.  It  was  likely  that 
some  one  else  could  give  equivalent  evidence  in  favor  of  Felix 
—  the  little  talkative  Dissenting  preacher,  for  example ;  but, 
anyhow,  the  affair  with  the  Sproxton  men  would  be  ripped  open 
and  made  the  worst  of  by  the  opposite  parties.  The  man  who 
has  failed  in  the  use  of  some  indirectness,  is  helped  very  little 
by  the  fact  that  his  rivals  are  men  to  whom  that  indirectness 
is  a  something  human,  very  far  from  being  alien.  There  re- 
mains this  grand  distinction,  that  he  has  failed,  and  that  the 
jet  of  light  is  thrown  entirely  on  his  misdoings. 

In  this  matter  Harold  felt  himself  a  victim.  Could  he  hin- 
der the  tricks  of  his  agents  ?  In  this  particular  case  he  had 
tried  to  hinder  them,  and  had  tried  in  vain.  He  had  not  loved 
the  two  agents  in  question,  to  begin  with ;  and  now  at  this 
later  stage  of  events  he  was  more  innocent  than  ever  of  bearing 
them  anything  but  the  most  sincere  ill-will.  He  was  more 
utterly  exasperated  with  them  than  he  would  probably  have 
been  if  his  one  great  passion  had  been  for  public  virtue.  Jer- 
myn,  with  his  John  Johnson,  had  added  this  ugly  dirty  busi- 
ness of  the  Treby  election  to  all  the  long-accumulating  list  of 
offences,  which  Harold  was  resolved  to  visit  on  him  to  the  ut- 
most. He  had  seen  some  handbills  carrying  the  insinuation 


FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL.  337 

that  there  was  a  discreditable  indebtness  to  Jermyn  on  the  part 
of  the  Transomes.  If  any  such  notions  existed  apart  from 
electioneering  slander,  there  was  all  the  more  reason  for  letting 
the  world  see  Jermyn  severely  punished  for  abusing  his  power 
over  the  family  affairs,  and  tampering  with  the  family  property. 
And  the  world  certainly  should  see  this  with  as  little  delay  as 
possible.  The  cool  confident  assuming  fellow  should  be  bled 
to  the  last  drop  in  compensation,  and  all  connection  with  him 
be  finally  got  rid  of.  Now  that  the  election  was  done  with, 
Harold  meant  to  devote  himself  to  private  affairs,  till  every- 
thing lay  in  complete  order  under  his  own  supervision. 

This  morning  he  was  seated  as  usual  in  his  private  room, 
which  had  now  been  handsomely  fitted  up  for  him.  It  was 
but  the  third  morning  after  the  first  Christmas  he  had  spent 
in  his  English  home  for  fifteen  years,  and  the  home  looked  like 
an  eminently  desirable  one.  The  white  frost  lay  on  the  broad 
lawn,  on  the  many-formed  leaves  of  the  evergreens,  and  on 
the  giant  trees  at  a  distance.  Logs  of  dry  oak  blazed  on  the 
hearth ;  the  carpet  was  like  warm  moss  under  his  feet ;  he 
had  breakfasted  just  according  to  his  taste,  and  he  had  the  in- 
teresting occupations  of  a  large  proprietor  to  fill  the  morning. 
All  through  the  house  now,  steps  were  noiseless  on  carpets  or 
on  fine  matting ;  there  was  warmth  in  hall  and  corridors ;  there 
were  servants  enough  to  do  everything,  and  to  do  it  at  the 
right  time.  Skilful  Dominic  was  always  at  hand  to  meet  his 
master's  demands,  and  his  bland  presence  diffused  itself  like  a 
smile  over  the  household,  infecting  the  gloomy  English  mind 
with  the  belief  that  life  was  easy,  and  making  his  real  predomi- 
nance seem  as  soft  and  light  as  a  down  quilt.  Old  Mr.  Tran- 
some  had  gathered  new  courage  and  strength  since  little  Harry 
and  Dominic  had  come,  and  since  Harold  had  insisted  on  his 
taking  drives.  Mrs.  Transome  herself  was  seen  on  a  fresh 
background  with  a  gown  of  rich  new  stuff.  And  if,  in  spite  of 
this,  she  did  not  seem  happy,  Harold  either  did  not  observe  it, 
or  kindly  ignored  it  as  the  necessary  frailty  of  elderly  women 
whose  lives  have  had  too  much  of  dulness  and  privation.  Our 
minds  get  tricks  and  attitudes  as  our  bodies  do,  thought  Har- 
old, and  age  stiffens  them  into  unalterableness.  "  Poor  mother ! 
VOL.  in.  22 


338  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL. 

I  confess  I  should  not  like  to  be  an  elderly  woman  myself. 
One  requires  a  good  deal  of  the  purring  cat  for  that,  or  else  of 
the  loving  grandame.  I  wish  she  would  take  more  to  little 
Harry.  I  suppose  she  has  her  suspicions  about  the  lad's 
mother,  and  is  as  rigid  in  those  matters  as  in  her  Toryism. 
However,  I  do  what  I  can ;  it  would  be  difficult  to  say  what 
there  is  wanting  to  her  in  the  way  of  indulgence  and  luxury  to 
make  up  for  the  old  niggardly  life." 

And  certainly  Transoine  Court  was  now  such  a  home  as 
many  women  would  covet.  Yet  even  Harold's  own  satisfac- 
tion in  the  midst  of  its  elegant  comfort  needed  at  present  to 
be  sustained  by  the  expectation  of  gratified  resentment.  He 
was  obviously  less  bright  and  enjoying  than  usual,  and  his 
mother,  who  watched  him  closely  without  daring  to  ask  ques- 
tions, had  gathered  hints  and  drawn  inferences  enough  to 
make  her  feel  sure  that  there  was  some  storm  gathering  be- 
tween him  and  Jermyn.  She  did  not  dare  to  ask  questions, 
and  yet  she  had  not  resisted  the  temptation  to  say  something 
bitter  about  Harold's  failure  to  get  returned  as  a  Radical, 
helping,  with  feminine  self-defeat,  to  exclude  herself  more 
completely  from  any  consultation  by  him.  In  this  way  poor 
women,  whose  power  lies  solely  in  their  influence,  make  them- 
selves like  music  out  of  tune,  and  only  move  men  to  run 
away. 

This  morning  Harold  had  ordered  his  letters  to  be  brought 
to  him  at  the  breakfast-table,  which  was  not  his  usual  practice. 
His  mother  could  see  that  there  were  London  business  letters 
about  which  he  was  eager,  and  she  had  found  out  that  the 
letter  brought  by  a  clerk  the  day  before  was  to  make  an  ap- 
pointment with  Harold  for  Jermyn  to  come  to  Transome 
Court  at  eleven  this  morning.  She  observed  Harold  swallow 
his  coffee  and  push  away  his  plate  with  an  early  abstraction 
from  the  business  of  breakfast  which  was  not  at  all  after  his 
usual  manner.  She  herself  ate  nothing :  her  sips  of  tea 
seemed  to  excite  her  ;  her  cheeks  flushed,  and  her  hands  were 
cold.  She  was  still  young  and  ardent  in  her  terrors ;  the 
passions  of  the  past  were  living  in  her  dread. 

When  Harold  left  the  table  she  went  into  the  long  drawing- 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  339 

room,  where  she  might  relieve  her  restlessness  by  walking  up 
and  down,  and  catch  the  sound  of  Jermyn's  entrance  into 
Harold's  room,  which  was  close  by.  Here  she  moved  to  and 
fro  amongst  the  rose-colored  satin  of  chairs  and  curtains  — 
the  great  story  of  this  world  reduced  for  her  to  the  little  tale 
of  her  own  existence  —  dull  obscurity  everywhere,  except 
where  the  keen  light  fell  on  the  narrow  track  of  her  own  lot, 
wide  only  for  a  woman's  anguish.  At  last  she  heard  the  ex- 
pected ring  and  footstep,  and  the  opening  and  closing  door. 
Unable  to  walk  about  any  longer,  she  sank  into  a  large 
cushioned  chair,  helpless  and  prayerless.  She  was  not  think- 
ing of  God's  anger  or  mercy,  but  of  her  son's.  She  was 
thinking  of  what  might  be  brought,  not  by  death,  but  by  life. 


CHAPTER  XXXV. 

M .  Check  to  your  queen ! 

N.  Nay,  your  own  king  is  bare, 

And  moving  so,  you  give  yourself  checkmate. 

WHEN  Jermyn  entered  the  room,  Harold,  who  was  seated 
at  his  library  table  examining  papers,  with  his  back  towards 
the  light  and  his  face  towards  the  door,  moved  his  head  coldly. 
Jermyn  said  an  ungracious  "  Good  morning  "  —  as  little  as 
possible  like  a  salutation  to  one  who  might  regard  himself  as 
a  patron.  On  the  attorney's  handsome  face  there  was  a  black 
cloud  of  defiant  determination,  slightly  startling  to  Harold, 
who  had  expected  to  feel  that  the  overpowering  weight  of 
temper  in  the  interview  was  on  his  own  side.  Nobody  was 
ever  prepared  beforehand  for  this  expression  of  Jermyn's 
face,  which  seemed  as  strongly  contrasted  with  the  cold  im- 
penetrableness  which  he  preserved  under  the  ordinary  annoy- 
ances of  business  as  with  the  bland  radiance  of  his  lighter 
moments. 


340  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

Harold  himself  did  not  look  amiable  just  then,  but  his  anger 
was  of  the  sort  that  seeks  a  vent  without  waiting  to  give  a 
fatal  blow ;  it  was  that  of  a  nature  more  subtly  mixed  than 
Jermyn's — less  animally  forcible,  less  unwavering  in  selfish- 
ness, and  with  more  of  high-bred  pride.  He  looked  at  Jermyn 
with  increased  disgust  and  secret  wonder. 

"  Sit  down,"  he  said,  curtly. 

Jermyn  seated  himself  in  silence,  opened  his  great-coat,  and 
took  some  papers  from  a  side-pocket. 

"  I  have  written  to  Makepieee,"  said  Harold,  "  to  tell  him 
to  take  the  entire  management  of  the  election  expenses.  So 
you  will  transmit  your  accounts  to  him." 

"  Very  well.     I  am  come  this  morning  on  other  business." 

"  If  it 's  about  the  riot  and  the  prisoners,  I  have  only  to  say 
that  I  shall  enter  into  no  plans.  If  I  am  called  on,  I  shall 
say  what  I  know  about  that  young  fellow  Felix  Holt.  People 
may  prove  what  they  can  about  Johnson's  damnable  tricks,  or 
yours  either." 

"  I  am  not  come  to  speak  about  the  riot.  I  agree  with  you 
in  thinking  that  quite  a  subordinate  subject."  (When  Jermyn 
had  the  black  cloud  over  his  face,  he  never  hesitated  or 
drawled,  and  made  no  Latin  quotations.) 

"  Be  so  good,  then,  as  to  open  your  business  at  once,"  said 
Harold,  in  a  tone  of  imperious  indifference. 

"  That  is  precisely  what  I  wish  to  do.  I  have  here  infor- 
mation from  a  London  correspondent  that  you  are  about  to 
file  a  bill  against  me  in  Chancery."  Jermyn,  as  he  spoke, 
laid  his  hand  on  the  papers  before  him,  and  looked  straight  at 
Harold. 

"  In  that  case,  the  question  for  you  is,  how  far  your  conduct 
as  the  family  solicitor  will  bear  investigation.  But  it  is  a 
question  which  you  will  consider  quite  apart  from  me." 

"Doubtless.  But  prior  to  that  there  is  a  question  which  we 
must  consider  together." 

The  tone  in  which  Jermyn  said  this  gave  an  unpleasant 
shock  to  Harold's  sense  of  mastery.  Was  it  possible  that  he 
should  have  the  weapon  wrenched  out  of  his  hand  ? 

"I  shall  know  what  to  think  of    that,"  he  replied,   as 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  341 

haughtily  as  ever,  "when  you  have  stated  what  the  ques- 
tion is." 

"  Simply,  whether  you  will  choose  to  retain  the  family  estates, 
or  lay  yourself  open  to  be  forthwith  legally  deprived  of  them." 

"  I  presume  you  refer  to  some  underhand  scheme  of  your 
own,  on  a  par  with  the  annuities  you  have  drained  us  by  in 
the  name  of  Johnson,"  said  Harold,  feeling  a  new  movement 
of  anger.  "  If  so,  you  had  better  state  your  scheme  to  my 
lawyers,  Dymock  and  Halliwell." 

"  No.  I  think  you  will  approve  of  my  stating  in  your  own 
ear  first  of  all,  that  it  depends  on  my  will  whether  you  remain 
an  important  landed  proprietor  in  North  Loamshire,  or  whether 
you  retire  from  the  county  with  the  remainder  of  the  fortune 
you  have  acquired  in  trade." 

Jermyn  paused,  as  if  to  leave  time  for  this  morsel  to  be 
tasted. 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  "  said  Harold,  sharply. 

"  Not  any  scheme  of  mine  ;  but  a  state  of  the  facts,  result- 
ing from  the  settlement  of  the  estate  made  in  1729 :  a  state  of 
the  facts  which  renders  your  father's  title  and  your  own  title 
to  the  family  estates  utterly  worthless  as  soon  as  the  true 
claimant  is  made  aware  of  his  right." 

"And  you  intend  to  inform  him  ?" 

"  That  depends.  I  am  the  only  person  who  has  the  requi- 
site knowledge.  It  rests  with  you  to  decide  whether  I  shall 
use  that  knowledge  against  you ;  or  whether  I  shall  use  it  in 
your  favor  —  by  putting  an  end  to  the  evidence  that  would 
serve  to  oust  you  in  spite  of  your  (  robust  title  of  occupancy.' " 

Jermyn  paused  again.  He  had  been  speaking  slowly,  but 
without  the  least  hesitation,  and  with  a  bitter  definiteness  of 
enunciation.  There  was  a  moment  or  two  before  Harold 
answered,  and  then  he  said  abruptly  — 

"  I  don't  believe  you." 

"  I  thought  you  were  more  shrewd,"  said  Jermyn,  with  a 
touch  of  scorn.  "  I  thought  you  understood  that  I  had  had 
too  much  experience  to  waste  my  time  in  telling  fables  to  per- 
suade a  man  who  has  put  himself  into  the  attitude  of  my 
deadly  enemy." 


842  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

"  Well,  then,  say  at  once  what  your  proofs  are,"  said  Harold, 
shaking  in  spite  of  himself,  and  getting  nervous. 

"  I  have  no  inclination  to  be  lengthy.  It  is  not  more  than 
a  few  weeks  since  I  ascertained  that  there  is  in  existence  an 
heir  of  the  Bycliffes,  the  old  adversaries  of  your  family.  More 
curiously,  it  is  only  a  few  days  ago  —  in  fact,  only  since  the 
day  of  the  riot  —  that  the  By  cliff  e  claim  has  become  valid,  and 
that  the  right  of  remainder  accrues  to  the  heir  in  question." 

"  And  how,  pray  ? "  said  Harold,  rising  from  his  chair, 
and  making  a  turn  in  the  room,  with  his  hands  thrust  in  his 
pockets.  Jermyn  rose  too,  and  stood  near  the  hearth,  facing 
Harold,  as  he  moved  to  and  fro. 

"By  the  death  of  an  old  fellow  who  got  drunk,  and  was 
trampled  to  death  in  the  riot.  He  was  the  last  of  that  Thomas 
Transome's  line,  by  the  purchase  of  whose  interest  your  family 
got  its  title  to  the  estate.  Your  title  died  with  him.  It  was 
supposed  that  the  line  had  become  extinct  before  —  and  on 
that  supposition  the  old  Bycliffes  founded  their  claim.  But 
I  hunted  up  this  man  just  about  the  time  the  last  suit  was 
closed.  His  death  would  have  been  of  no  consequence  to  you 
if  there  had  not  been  a  Bycliffe  in  existence  ;  but  I  happen  to 
know  that  there  is,  and  that  the  fact  can  be  legally  proved." 

For  a  minute  or  two  Harold  did  not  speak,  but  continued  to 
pace  the  room,  while  Jermyn  kept  his  position,  holding  his 
hands  behind  him.  At  last  Harold  said,  from  the  other  end 
of  the  room,  speaking  in  a  scornful  tone  — 

"  That  sounds  alarming.  But  it  is  not  to  be  proved  simply 
by  your  statement." 

"  Clearly.  I  have  here  a  document,  with  a  copy  which  will 
back  my  statement.  It  is  the  opinion  given  on  the  case  more 
than  twenty  years  ago,  and  it  bears  the  signature  of  the 
Attorney-General  and  the  first  conveyancer  of  the  day." 

Jermyn  took  up  the  papers  he  had  laid  on  the  table,  open- 
ing them  slowly  and  coolly  as  he  went  on  speaking,  and  as 
Harold  advanced  towards  him. 

"  You  may  suppose  that  we  spared  no  pains  to  ascertain  the 
state  of  the  title  in  the  last  suit  against  Maurice  Christian 
Bycliffe,  which  threatened  to  be  a  hard  run.  This  document 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  843 

is  the  result  of  a  consultation ;  it  gives  an  opinion  which  must 
be  taken  as  a  final  authority.  You  may  cast  your  eyes  over 
that,  if  you  please ;  I  will  wait  your  time.  Or  you  may  read 
the  summing-up  here,"  Jermyn  ended,  holding  out  one  of  the 
papers  to  Harold,  and  pointing  to  a  final  passage. 

Harold  took  the  paper,  with  a  slight  gesture  of  impatience. 
He  did  not  choose  to  obey  Jermyn's  indication,  and  confine 
himself  to  the  summing-up.  He  ran  through  the  document. 
But  in  truth  he  was  too  much  excited  really  to  follow  the 
details,  and  was  rather  acting  than  reading,  till  at  length  he 
threw  himself  into  his  chair  and  consented  to  bend  his  atten- 
tion on  the  passage  to  which  Jermyn  had  pointed.  The 
attorney  watched  him  as  he  read  and  twice  re-read :  — 

"  To  sum  up  ...  we  are  of  opinion  that  the  title  of  the  present 
possessors  of  the  Transome  estates  can  be  strictly  proved  to  rest  solely 
upon  a  base  fee  created  under  the  original  settlement  of  1729,  and  to 
be  good  so  long  only  as  issue  exists  of  the  tenant  in  tail  by  whom  that 
base  fee  was  created.  We  feel  satisfied  by  the  evidence  that  such 
issue  exists  in  the  person  of  Thomas  Transome,  otherwise  Trounsem, 
of  Littleshaw.  But  upon  his  decease  without  issue  we  are  of  opinion 
that  the  right  in  remainder  of  the  Bycliffe  family  will  arise,  which 
right  would  not  be  barred  by  any  statute  of  limitation." 

When  Harold's  eyes  were  on  the  signatures  to  this  document 
for  the  third  time,  Jermyn  said  — 

"  As  it  turned  out,  the  case  being  closed  by  the  death  of  the 
claimant,  we  had  no  occasion  for  producing  Thomas  Transome, 
who  was  the  old  fellow  I  tell  you  of.  The  inquiries  about  him 
set  him  agog,  and  after  they  were  dropped  he  came  into  this 
neighborhood,  thinking  there  was  something  fine  in  store  for 
him.  Here,  if  you  like  to  take  it,  is  a  memorandum  about 
him.  I  repeat  that  he  died  in  the  riot.  The  proof  is  ready. 
And  I  repeat,  that,  to  my  knowledge,  and  mine  only,  there  is 
a  Bycliffe  in  existence ;  and  that  I  know  how  the  proof  can  be 
made  out." 

Harold  rose  from  his  chair  again,  and  again  paced  the  room. 
He  was  not  prepared  with  any  defiance. 

"  And  where  is  he  —  this  Bycliffe  ?  "  he  said  at  last,  stop- 
ping in  his  walk,  and  facing  round  towards  Jermyn. 


344  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL. 

"  I  decline  to  say  more  till  you  promise  to  suspend  proceed- 
ings against  me." 

Harold  turned  again,  and  looked  out  of  the  window,  with- 
out speaking,  for  a  moment  or  two.  It  was  impossible  that 
there  should  not  be  a  conflict  within  him,  and  at  present  it 
was  a  very  confused  one.  At  last  he  said  — 

"  This  person  is  in  ignorance  of  his  claim  ?  " 

«  Yes." 

"  Has  been  brought  up  in  an  inferior  station  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Jermyn,  keen  enough  to  guess  part  of  what  was 
going  on  in  Harold's  mind.  "  There  is  no  harm  in  leaving  him  in 
ignorance.  The  question  is  a  purely  legal  one.  And,  as  I  said  be- 
fore, the  complete  knowledge  of  the  case,  as  one  of  evidence,  lies 
exclusively  with  me.  I  can  nullify  the  evidence,  or  I  can  make 
it  tell  with  certainty  against  you.  The  choice  lies  with  you." 

"  I  must  have  time  to  think  of  this,"  said  Harold,  conscious 
of  a  terrible  pressure. 

"  I  can  give  you  no  time  unless  you  promise  me  to  suspend 
proceedings." 

"  And  then,  when  I  ask  you,  you  will  lay  the  details  before 
me?" 

"Not  without  a  thorough  understanding  beforehand.  If  I 
engage  not  to  use  my  knowledge  against  you,  you  must  engage 
in  writing  that  on  being  satisfied  by  the  details,  you  will  can- 
cel all  hostile  proceedings  against  me,  and  will  not  institute 
fresh  ones  on  the  strength  of  any  occurrences  now  past." 

"  Well,  I  must  have  time,"  said  Harold,  more  than  ever  in- 
clined to  thrash  the  attorney,  but  feeling  bound  hand  and  foot 
with  knots  that  he  was  not  sure  he  could  ever  unfasten. 

"  That  is  to  say,"  said  Jermyn,  with  his  black-browed  per- 
sistence, "  you  will  write  to  suspend  proceedings." 

Again  Harold  paused.  He  was  more  than  ever  exasperated, 
but  he  was  threatened,  mortified,  and  confounded  by  the  ne- 
cessity for  an  immediate  decision  between  alternatives  almost 
equally  hateful  to  him.  It  was  with  difficulty  that  he  could 
prevail  on  himself  to  speak  any  conclusive  words.  He  walked 
as  far  as  he  could  from  Jermyn  —  to  the  other  end  of  the  room 
—  then  walked  back  to  his  chair  and  threw  himself  into  it. 


FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL.  345 

At  last  he  said,  without  looking  at  Jermyn,  "  I  agree  —  I  must 
have  time." 

"  Very  well.     It  is  a  bargain." 

"No  further  than  this,"  said  Harold,  hastily,  flashing  a  look 
at  Jermyn  —  "  no  further  than  this,  that  I  require  time,  and 
therefore  I  give  it  to  you." 

"  Of  course.  You  require  time  to  consider  whether  the 
pleasure  of  trying  to  ruin  me  —  me  to  whom  you  are  really 
indebted  —  is  worth  the  loss  of  the  Transome  estates.  —  I 
shall  wish  you  good  morning." 

Harold  did  not  speak  to  him  or  look  at  him  again,  and  Jer- 
myn walked  out  of  the  room.  As  he  appeared  outside  the 
door  and  closed  it  behind  him,  Mrs.  Transome  showed  her 
white  face  at  another  door  which  opened  on  a  level  with  Har- 
old's in  such  a  way  that  it  was  just  possible  for  Jermyn  not  to 
see  her.  He  availed  himself  of  that  possibility,  and  walked 
straight  across  the  hall,  where  there  was  no  servant  in  attend- 
ance to  let  him  out,  as  if  he  believed  that  no  one  was  looking 
at  him  who  could  expect  recognition.  He  did  not  want  to 
speak  to  Mrs.  Transome  at  present ;  he  had  nothing  to  ask 
from  her,  and  one  disagreeable  interview  had  been  enough  for 
him  this  morning. 

She  was  convinced  that  he  had  avoided  her,  and  she  was 
too  proud  to  arrest  him.  She  was  as  insignificant  now  in 
his  eyes  as  in  her  son's.  "  Men  have  no  memories  in  their 
hearts,"  she  said  to  herself,  bitterly.  Turning  into  her  sitting- 
room,  she  heard  the  voices  of  Mr.  Transome  and  little  Harry 
at  play  together.  She  would  have  given  a  great  deal  at  this 
moment  if  her  feeble  husband  had  not  always  lived  in  dread 
of  her  temper  and  her  tyranny,  so  that  he  might  have  been  fond 
of  her  now.  She  felt  herself  loveless ;  if  she  was  important 
to  any  one,  it  was  only  to  her  old  waiting-woman  Denner. 


346  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 


CHAPTER  XXXVL 

Are  these  things  then  necessities  1 
Then  let  us  meet  them  like  necessities. 

SHAKESPEARE  :  Henry  IV. 

See  now  the  virtue  living  in  a  word  ! 
Hobson  will  think  of  swearing  it  was  noon 
When  he  saw  Dobson  at  the  May-day  fair, 
To  prove  poor  Dobson  did  not  rob  the  maiL 
'T  is  neighborly  to  save  a  neighbor's  neck : 
What  harm  in  lying  when  you  mean  no  harm  ? 
But  say  't  is  perjury,  then  Hobson  quakes  — 
He  '11  none  of  perjury. 

Thus  words  embalm 

The  conscience  of  mankind ;   and  Roman  laws 
Bring  still  a  conscience  to  poor  Hobson's  aid. 

men  would  have  felt  otherwise  than  Harold  Transome 
felt,  if.  having  a  reversion  tantamount  to  possession  of  a 
fine  estate,  carrying  an  association  with  an  old  name  and 
considerable  social  importance,  they  were  suddenly  informed 
that  there  was  a  person  who  had  a  legal  right  to  deprive 
them  of  these  advantages ;  that  person's  right  having  never 
been  contemplated  by  any  one  as  more  than  a  chance,  and 
being  quite  unknown  to  himself.  In  ordinary  cases  a  shorter 
possession  than  Harold's  family  had  enjoyed  was  allowed 
by  the  law  to  constitute  an  indefeasible  right ;  and  if  in  rare 
and  peculiar  instances  the  law  left  the  possessor  of  a  long 
inheritance  exposed  to  deprivation  as  a  consequence  of  old  ob- 
scure transactions,  the  moral  reasons  for  giving  legal  validity 
to  the  title  of  long  occupancy  were  not  the  less  strong.  No- 
body would  have  said  that  Harold  was  bound  to  hunt  out  this 
alleged  remainder-man  and  urge  his  rights  upon  him ;  on  the 
contrary,  all  the  world  would  have  laughed  at  such  conduct, 
and  he  would  have  been  thought  an  interesting  patient  for  a 
mad-doctor.  The  unconscious  remainder-man  was  probably 
much  better  off  left  in  his  original  station  :  Harold  would  not 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  847 

have  been  called  upon  to  consider  his  existence,  if  it  had  not 
been  presented  to  him  in  the  shape  of  a  threat  from  one  who 
had  power  to  execute  the  threat. 

In  fact,  what  he  would  have  done  had  the  circumstances 
been  different,  was  much  clearer  than  what  he  should  choose 
to  do  or  feel  himself  compelled  to  do  in  the  actual  crisis.  He 
would  not  have  been  disgraced  if,  on  a  valid  claim  being  urged, 
he  had  got  his  lawyers  to  fight  it  out  for  him  on  the  chance  of 
eluding  the  claim  by  some  adroit  technical  management.  No- 
body off  the  stage  could  be  sentimental  about  these  things,  or 
pretend  to  shed  tears  of  joy  because  an  estate  was  handed  over 
from  a  gentleman  to  a  mendicant  sailor  with  a  wooden  leg. 
And  this  chance  remainder-man  was  perhaps  some  such  speci- 
men of  inheritance  as  the  drunken  fellow  killed  in  the  riot. 
All  the  world  would  think  the  actual  Transomes  in  the  right 
to  contest  any  adverse  claim  to  the  utmost.  But  then  —  it 
was  not  certain  that  they  would  win  in  the  contest ;  and  not 
winning,  they  would  incur  other  loss  besides  that  of  the  estate. 
There  had  been  a  little  too  much  of  such  loss  already. 

But  why,  if  it  were  not  wrong  to  contest  the  claim,  should 
he  feel  the  most  uncomfortable  scruples  about  robbing  the 
claim  of  its  sting  by  getting  rid  of  its  evidence  ?  It  was  a 
mortal  disappointment  —  it  was  a  sacrifice  of  indemnification 
— to  abstain  from  punishing  Jermyn.  But  even  if  he  brought 
his  mind  to  contemplate  that  as  the  wiser  course,  he  still  shrank 
from  what  looked  like  complicity  with  Jermyn ;  he  still  shrank 
from  the  secret  nullification  of  a  just  legal  claim.  If  he  had 
only  known  the  details,  if  he  had  known  who  this  alleged 
heir  was,  he  might  have  seen  his  way  to  some  course  that 
would  not  have  grated  on  his  sense  of  honor  and  dignity.  But 
Jermyn  had  been  too  acute  to  let  Harold  know  this  :  he  had 
even  carefully  kept  to  the  masculine  pronoun.  And  he  be- 
lieved that  there  was  no  one  besides  himself  who  would  or 
could  make  Harold  any  wiser.  He  went  home  persuaded  that 
between  this  interview  and  the  next  which  they  would  have 
together,  Harold  would  be  left  to  an  inward  debate,  founded 
entirely  on  the  information  he  himself  had  given.  And  he 
had  not  much  doubt  that  the  result  would  be  what  he  desired. 


348  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

Harold  was  no  fool :  there  were  many  good  things  lie  liked 
better  in  life  than  an  irrational  vindictiveness. 

And  it  did  happen  that,  after  writing  to  London  in  fulfilment 
of  his  pledge,  Harold  spent  many  hours  over  that  inward  debate, 
which  was  not  very  different  from  what  Jermyn  imagined. 
He  took  it  everywhere  with  him,  on  foot  and  on  horseback, 
and  it  was  his  companion  through  a  great  deal  of  the  night. 
His  nature  was  not  of  a  kind  given  to  internal  conflict,  and  he 
had  never  before  been  long  undecided  and  puzzled.  This  un- 
accustomed state  of  mind  was  so  painfully  irksome  to  him  — 
he  rebelled  so  impatiently  against  the  oppression  of  circum- 
stances in  which  his  quick  temperament  and  habitual  decision 
could  not  help  him  —  that  it  added  tenfold  to  his  hatred  of 
Jermyn,  who  was  the  cause  of  it.  And  thus,  as  the  tempta- 
tion to  avoid  all  risk  of  losing  the  estate  grew  and  grew  till 
scruples  looked  minute  by  the  side  of  it,  the  difficulty  of  bring- 
ing himself  to  make  a  compact  with  Jermyn  seemed  more  and 
more  insurmountable. 

But  we  have  seen  that  the  attorney  was  much  too  confident 
in  his  calculations.  And  while  Harold  was  being  gulled  by 
his  subjection  to  Jermyn's  knowledge,  independent  informa- 
tion was  on  its  way  to  him.  The  messenger  was  Christian, 
who,  after  as  complete  a  survey  of  probabilities  as  he  was  capa- 
ble of,  had  come  to  the  conclusion  that  the  most  profitable 
investment  he  could  make  of  his  peculiar  experience  and  tes- 
timony in  relation  to  Bycliffe  and  Bycliffe's  daughter,  was  to 
place  them  at  the  disposal  of  Harold  Transome.  He  was 
afraid  of  Jermyn;  he  utterly  distrusted  Johnson;  but  he 
thought  he  was  secure  in  relying  on  Harold  Transome's  care 
for  his  own  interest;  and  he  preferred  above  all  issues  the 
prospect  of  forthwith  leaving  the  country  with  a  sum  that  at 
least  for  a  good  while  would  put  him  at  his  ease. 

When,  only  three  mornings  after  the  interview  with  Jermyn, 
Dominic  opened  the  door  of  Harold's  sitting-room,  and  said 
that  "  Meester  Chreestian,"  Mr.  Philip  Debarry's  courier  and 
an  acquaintance  of  his  own  at  Naples,  requested  to  be  admit- 
ted on  business  of  importance,  Harold's  immediate  thought 
was  that  the  business  referred  to  the  so-called  political  affairs 


FELIX  HOLT,  TEE  RADICAL.  349 

which  were  just  now  his  chief  association  with  the  name  of 
Debarry,  though  it  seemed  an  oddness  requiring  explanation, 
that  a  servant  should  be  personally  an  intermediary.  He  as- 
sented, expecting  something  rather  disagreeable  than  otherwise. 

Christian  wore  this  morning  those  perfect  manners  of  a  sub- 
ordinate who  is  not  servile,  which  he  always  adopted  towards 
his  unquestionable  superiors.  Mr.  Debarry,  who  preferred  hav- 
ing some  one  about  him  with  as  little  resemblance  as  possible 
to  a  regular  servant,  had  a  singular  liking  for  the  adroit,  quiet- 
mannered  Christian,  and  would  have  been  amazed  to  see  the  in- 
solent assumption  he  was  capable  of  in  the  presence  of  people 
like  Mr.  Lyon,  who  were  of  no  account  in  society.  Christian 
had  that  sort  of  cleverness  which  is  said  to  "  know  the  world  " 
—  that  is  to  say,  he  knew  the  price-current  of  most  things. 

Aware  that  he  was  looked  at  as  a  messenger  while  he  re- 
mained standing  near  the  door  with  his  hat  in  his  hand,  he 
said,  with  respectful  ease  — 

"  You  will  probably  be  surprised,  sir,  at  my  coming  to  speak 
to  you  on  my  own  account;  and,  in  fact,  I  could  not  have 
thought  of  doing  so  if  my  business  did  not  happen  to  be  some- 
thing of  more  importance  to  you  than  to  any  one  else." 

"  You  don't  come  from  Mr.  Debarry,  then  ?  "  said  Harold, 
with  some  surprise. 

"  No,  sir.  My  business  is  a  secret ;  and,  if  you  please,  must 
remain  so." 

"  Is  it  a  pledge  you  are  demanding  from  me  ?  "  said  Harold, 
rather  suspiciously,  having  no  ground  for  confidence  in  a  man 
of  Christian's  position. 

"  Yes,  sir ;  I  am  obliged  to  ask  no  less  than  that  you  will 
pledge  yourself  not  to  take  Mr.  Jermyn  into  confidence  con- 
cerning what  passes  between  us." 

"  With  all  my  heart,"  said  Harold,  something  like  a  gleam 
passing  over  his  face.  His  circulation  had  become  more  rapid. 
"  But  what  have  you  had  to  do  with  Jermyn  ?  " 

"  He  has  not  mentioned  me  to  you  then  —  has  he,  sir  ?  " 

"  No ;  certainly  not  —  never." 

Christian  thought,  "  Aha,  Mr.  Jermyn !  you  are  keeping  the 
secret  well,  are  you  ?  "  He  said,  aloud  — 


850  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

"  Then  Mr.  Jermyn  has  never  mentioned  to  you,  sir,  what 
I  believe  he  is  aware  of  —  that  there  is  danger  of  a  new  suit 
being  raised  against  you  on  the  part  of  a  Bycliffe,  to  get  the 
estate  ?  " 

"  Ah !  "  said  Harold,  starting  up,  and  placing  himself  with 
his  back  against  the  mantel-piece.  He  was  electrified  by  sur- 
prise at  the  quarter  from  which  this  information  was  coming. 
Any  fresh  alarm  was  counteracted  by  the  flashing  thought  that 
he  might  be  enabled  to  act  independently  of  Jermyn  ;  and  in  the 
rush  of  feelings  he  could  utter  no  more  than  an  interjection. 
Christian  concluded  that  Harold  had  had  no  previous  hint. 

"  It  is  this  fact,  sir,  that  I  came  to  tell  you  of." 

"  From  some  other  motive  than  kindness  to  me,  I  presume," 
said  Harold,  with  a  slight  approach  to  a  smile. 

"Certainly,"  said  Christian,  as  quietly  as  if  he  had  been 
stating  yesterday's  weather.  "  I  should  not  have  the  folly  to 
use  any  affectation  with  you,  Mr.  Transome.  I  lost  consider- 
able property  early  in  life,  and  am  now  in  the  receipt  of  a 
salary  simply.  In  the  affair  I  have  just  mentioned  to  you 
I  can  give  evidence  which  will  turn  the  scale  against  you.  I 
have  no  wish  to  do  so,  if  you  will  make  it  worth  my  while  to 
leave  the  country." 

Harold  listened  as  if  he  had  been  a  legendary  hero,  selected 
for  peculiar  solicitation  by  the  Evil  One.  Here  was  tempta- 
tion in  a  more  alluring  form  than  before,  because  it  was  sweet- 
ened by  the  prospect  of  eluding  Jermyn.  But  the  desire  to 
gain  time  served  all  the  purposes  of  caution  and  resistance, 
and  his  indifference  to  the  speaker  in  this  case  helped  him  to 
preserve  perfect  self-command. 

"You  are  aware,"  he  said,  coolly,  "that  silence  is  not  a 
commodity  worth  purchasing  unless  it  is  loaded.  There  are 
many  persons,  I  dare  say,  who  would  like  me  to  pay  their 
travelling  expenses  for  them.  But  they  might  hardly  be  able 
to  show  me  that  it  was  worth  my  while." 

"  You  wish  me  to  state  what  I  know  ?  " 

"  Well,  that  is  a  necessary  preliminary  to  any  further  con- 
versation." 

"I  think  you  will  see,  Mr.  Transome,  that,  as  a  matter  of 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  351 

justice,  the  knowledge  I  can  give  is  worth  something,  quite 
apart  from  my  future  appearance  or  non-appearance  as  a  wit- 
ness. I  must  take  care  of  my  own  interest,  and  if  anything 
should  hinder  you  from  choosing  to  satisfy  me  for  taking  an 
essential  witness  out  of  the  way,  I  must  at  least  be  paid  for 
bringing  you  the  information." 

"  Can  you  tell  me  who  and  where  this  Bycliffe  is  ?  " 

« I  can." 

"  —  And  give  me  a  notion  of  the  whole  affair  ?  " 

"  Yes  :  I  have  talked  to  a  lawyer  —  not  Jermyn  —  who  is  at 
the  bottom  of  the  law  in  the  affair." 

"  You  must  not  count  on  any  wish  of  mine  to  suppress  evi- 
dence or  remove  a  witness.  But  name  your  price  for  the 
information." 

"  In  that  case  I  must  be  paid  the  higher  for  my  information. 
Say,  two  thousand  pounds." 

"  Two  thousand  devils ! "  burst  out  Harold,  throwing  him- 
self into  his  chair  again,  and  turning  his  shoulder  towards 
Christian.  New  thoughts  crowded  upon  him.  "  This  fellow 
may  want  to  decamp  for  some  reason  or  other,"  he  said  to  him- 
self. "More  people  besides  Jermyn  know  about  his  evidence, 
it  seems.  The  whole  thing  may  look  black  for  me  if  it  comes 
out.  I  shall  be  believed  to  have  bribed  him  to  run  away, 
whether  or  not."  Thus  the  outside  conscience  came  in  aid  of 
the  inner. 

"  I  will  not  give  you  one  sixpence  for  your  information,"  he 
said,  resolutely,  "  until  time  has  made  it  clear  that  you  do  not 
intend  to  decamp,  but  will  be  forthcoming  when  you  are  called 
for.  On  those  terms  I  have  no  objection  to  give  you  a  note, 
specifying  that  after  the  fulfilment  of  that  condition  —  that 
is,  after  the  occurrence  of  a  suit,  or  the  understanding  that  no 
suit  is  to  occur  —  I  will  pay  you  a  certain  sum  in  consideration 
of  the  information  you  now  give  me  ! " 

Christian  felt  himself  caught  in  a  vice.  In  the  first  instance 
he  had  counted  confidently  on  Harold's  ready  seizure  of  his 
offer  to  disappear,  and  after  some  words  had  seemed  to  cast  a 
doubt  on  this  presupposition,  he  had  inwardly  determined  to 
go  away,  whether  Harold  wished  it  or  not,  if  he  could  get  a 


352  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL. 

sufficient  sum.  He  did  not  reply  immediately,  and  Harold 
waited  in  silence,  inwardly  anxious  to  know  what  Christian 
could  tell,  but  with  a  vision  at  present  so  far  cleared  that  he 
was  determined  not  to  risk  incurring  the  imputation  of  having 
anything  to  do  with  scoundrelism.  We  are  very  much  in- 
debted to  such  a  linking  of  events  as  makes  a  doubtful  action 
look  wrong. 

Christian  was  reflecting  that  if  he  stayed,  and  faced  some 
possible  inconveniences  of  being  known  publicly  as  Henry 
Scaddon  for  the  sake  of  what  he  might  get  from  Esther,  it 
would  at  least  be  wise  to  be  certain  of  some  money  from  Harold 
Transome,  since  he  turned  out  to  be  of  so  peculiar  a  disposition 
as  to  insist  on  a  punctilious  honesty  to  his  own  disadvantage. 
Did  he  think  of  making  a  bargain  with  the  other  side  ?  If  so, 
he  might  be  content  to  wait  for  the  knowledge  till  it  came  in 
some  other  way.  Christian  was  beginning  to  be  afraid  lest  he 
should  get  nothing  by  this  clever  move  of  coming  to  Transome 
Court.  At  last  he  said  — 

"I  think,  sir,  two  thousand  would  not  be  an  unreasonable 
sum,  on  those  conditions." 

"  I  will  not  give  two  thousand." 

"Allow  me  to  say,  sir,  you  must  consider  that  there  is  no 
one  whose  interest  it  is  to  tell  you  as  much  as  I  shall,  even  if 
they  could ;  since  Mr.  Jermyn,  who  knows  it,  has  not  thought 
fit  to  tell  you.  There  may  be  use  you  don't  think  of  in  getting 
the  information  at  once." 

"Well?" 

"I  think  a  gentleman  should  act  liberally  under  such 
circumstances." 

"So  I  will." 

"  I  could  not  take  less  than  a  thousand  pounds.  It  really 
would  not  be  worth  my  while.  If  Mr.  Jermyn  knew  I  gave 
you  the  information,  he  would  endeavor  to  injure  me." 

"I  will  give  you  a  thousand,"  said  Harold,  immediately,  for 
Christian  had  unconsciously  touched  a  sure  spring.  "At  least, 
I  '11  give  you  a  note  to  the  effect  I  spoke  of." 

He  wrote  as  he  had  promised,  and  gave  the  paper  to 
Christian. 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  353 

"Now,  don't  be  circuitous,"  said  Harold.  "You  seem  to 
have  a  business-like  gift  of  speech.  Who  and  where  is  this 
Bycliffe?" 

"You  will  be  surprised  to  hear,  sir,  that  she  is  supposed 
to  be  the  daughter  of  the  old  preacher,  Lyon,  in  Malthouse 
Yard." 

"  Good  God  !  How  can  that  be  ?  "  said  Harold.  At  once, 
the  first  occasion  on  which  he  had  seen  Esther  rose  in  his 
memory  —  the  little  dark  parlor  —  the  graceful  girl  in  blue, 
with  the  surprisingly  distinguished  manners  and  appearance. 

"  In  this  way.  Old  Lyon,  by  some  strange  means  or  other, 
married  Bycliffe's  widow  when  this  girl  was  a  baby.  And  the 
preacher  did  n't  want  the  girl  to  know  that  he  was  not  her 
real  father :  he  told  me  that  himself.  But  she  is  the  image  of 
Bycliffe,  whom  I  knew  well  —  an  uncommonly  fine  woman  — 
steps  like  a  queen." 

"I  have  seen  her,"  said  Harold,  more  than  ever  glad  to  have 
purchased  this  knowledge.  "  But  now,  go  on." 

Christian  proceeded  to  tell  all  he  knew,  including  his  con- 
versation with  Jermyn,  except  so  far  as  it  had  an  unpleasant 
relation  to  himself. 

"Then,"  said  Harold,  as  the  details  seemed  to  have  come 
to  a  close,  "you  believe  that  Miss  Lyon  and  her  supposed 
father  are  at  present  unaware  of  the  claims  that  might  be 
urged  for  her  on  the  strength  of  her  birth  ?  " 

"  I  believe  so.  But  I  need  not  tell  you  that  where  the  law- 
yers are  on  the  scent  you  can  never  be  sure  of  anything  long 
together.  I  must  remind  you,  sir,  that  you  have  promised  to 
protect  me  from  Mr.  Jermyn  by  keeping  my  confidence." 

"  Never  fear.  Depend  upon  it,  I  shall  betray  nothing  to 
Mr.  Jermyn." 

Christian  was  dismissed  with  a  "  good  morning ; "  and  while 
he  cultivated  some  friendly  reminiscences  with  Dominic,  Har- 
old sat  chewing  the  cud  of  his  new  knowledge,  and  finding  it 
not  altogether  so  bitter  as  he  had  expected. 

From  the  first,  after  his  interview  with  Jermyn,  the  recoil 
of  Harold's  mind  from  the  idea  of  strangling  a  legal  right 
threw  him  on  the  alternative  of  attempting  a  compromise. 


354  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL. 

Some  middle  course  might  be  possible,  which  would  be  a  less 
evil  than  a  costly  lawsuit,  or  than  the  total  renunciation  of 
the  estates.  And  now  he  had  learned  that  the  new  claimant 
was  a  woman  —  a  young  woman,  brought  up  under  circum- 
stances that  would  make  the  fourth  of  the  Transome  property 
seem  to  her  an  immense  fortune.  Both  the  sex  and  the  social 
condition  were  of  the  sort  that  lies  open  to  many  softening 
influences.  And  having  seen  Esther,  it  was  inevitable  that, 
amongst  the  various  issues,  agreeable  and  disagreeable,  depicted 
by  Harold's  imagination,  there  should  present  itself  a  possi- 
bility that  would  unite  the  two  claims  —  his  own,  which  he 
felt  to  be  the  rational,  and  Esther's,  which  apparently  was 
the  legal  claim. 

Harold,  as  he  had  constantly  said  to  his  mother,  was  "not 
a  marrying  man ; "  he  did  not  contemplate  bringing  a  wife  to 
Transome  Court  for  many  years  to  come,  if  at  all.  Having 
little  Harry  as  an  heir,  he  preferred  freedom.  Western 
women  were  not  to  his  taste :  they  showed  a  transition  from 
the  feebly  animal  to  the  thinking  being,  which  was  simply 
troublesome.  Harold  preferred  a  slow-witted  large-eyed  woman, 
silent  and  affectionate,  with  a  load  of  black  hair  weighing 
much  more  heavily  than  her  brains.  He  had  seen  no  such 
woman  in  England,  except  one  whom  he  had  brought  with 
him  from  the  East. 

Therefore  Harold  did  not  care  to  be  married  until  or  unless 
some  surprising  chance  presented  itself ;  and  now  that  such  a 
chance  had  occurred  to  suggest  marriage  to  him,  he  would  not 
admit  to  himself  that  he  contemplated  marrying  Esther  as  a 
plan ;  he  was  only  obliged  to  see  that  such  an  issue  was  not 
inconceivable.  He  was  not  going  to  take  any  step  expressly 
directed  towards  that  end :  what  he  had  made  up  his  mind  to, 
as  the  course  most  satisfactory  to  his  nature  under  present 
urgencies,  was  to  behave  to  Esther  with  a  frank  gentleman- 
liness,  which  must  win  her  good-will,  and  incline  her  to  save 
his  family  interest  as  much  as  possible.  He  was  helped  to 
this  determination  by  the  pleasure  of  frustrating  Jermyn's 
contrivance  to  shield  himself  from  punishment ;  and  his  most 
distinct  and  cheering  prospect  was,  that  within  a  very  short 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  855 

space  of  time  he  should  not  only  have  effected  a  satisfactory 
compromise  with  Esther,  but  should  have  made  Jermyn  aware, 
by  a  very  disagreeable  form  of  announcement,  that  Harold 
Transome  was  no  longer  afraid  of  him.  Jermyn  should  bite 
the  dust. 

At  the  end  of  these  meditations  he  felt  satisfied  with  himself 
and  light-hearted.  He  had  rejected  two  dishonest  propositions, 
and  he  was  going  to  do  something  that  seemed  eminently 
graceful.  But  he  needed  his  mother's  assistance,  and  it  was 
necessary  that  he  should  both  confide  in  her  and  persuade 
her. 

Within  two  hours  after  Christian  left  him,  Harold  begged 
his  mother  to  come  into  his  private  room,  and  there  he  told 
her  the  strange  and  startling  story,  omitting,  however,  any 
particulars  which  would  involve  the  identification  of  Christian 
as  his  informant.  Harold  felt  that  his  engagement  demanded 
his  reticence ;  and  he  told  his  mother  that  he  was  bound  to 
conceal  the  source  of  that  knowledge  which  he  had  got  inde- 
pendently of  Jermyn. 

Mrs.  Transome  said  little  in  the  course  of  the  story:  she 
made  no  exclamations,  but  she  listened  with  close  attention, 
and  asked  a  few  questions  so  much  to  the  point  as  to  surprise 
Harold.  When  he  showed  her  the  copy  of  the  legal  opinion 
which  Jermyn  had  left  with  him,  she  said  she  knew  it  very 
well :  she  had  a  copy  herself.  The  particulars  of  that  last 
lawsuit  were  too  well  engraven  on  her  mind :  it  happened  at 
a  time  when  there  was  no  one  to  supersede  her,  and  she  was 
the  virtual  head  of  the  family  affairs.  She  was  prepared  to 
understand  how  the  estate  might  be  in  danger ;  but  nothing 
had  prepared  her  for  the  strange  details  —  for  the  way  in 
which  the  new  claimant  had  been  reared  and  brought  within 
the  range  of  converging  motives  that  had  led  to  this  revela- 
tion, least  of  all  for  the  part  Jermyn  had  come  to  play  in 
the  revelation.  Mrs.  Transome  saw  these  things  through  the 
medium  of  certain  dominant  emotions  that  made  them  seem 
like  a  long-ripening  retribution.  Harold  perceived  that  she 
was  painfully  agitated,  that  she  trembled,  and  that  her  white 
lips  would  not  readily  lend  themselves  to  speech.  And  this 


356  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

was  hardly  more  than  he  expected.  He  had  not  liked  the 
revelation  himself  when  it  had  first  come  to  him. 

But  he  did  not  guess  what  it  was  in  his  narrative  which 
had  most  pierced  his  mother.  It  was  something  that  made 
the  threat  about  the  estate  only  a  secondary  alarm.  Now,  for 
the  first  time,  she  heard  of  the  intended  proceedings  against 
Jermyn.  Harold  had  not  chosen  to  speak  of  them  before ; 
but  having  at  last  called  his  mother  into  consultation,  there 
was  nothing  in  his  mind  to  hinder  him  from  speaking  without 
reserve  of  his  determination  to  visit  on  the  attorney  his 
shameful  maladministration  of  the  family  affairs. 

Harold  went  through  the  whole  narrative  —  of  what  he 
called  Jermyn's  scheme  to  catch  him  in  a  vice,  and  his  power 
of  triumphantly  frustrating  that  scheme  —  in  his  usual  rapid 
way,  speaking  with  a  final  decisiveness  of  tone:  and  his 
mother  felt  that  if  she  urged  any  counter-consideration  at 
all,  she  could  only  do  so  when  he  had  no  more  to  say. 

"  Now,  what  I  want  you  to  do,  mother,  if  you  can  see  this 
matter  as  I  see  it,"  Harold  said  in  conclusion,  "  is  to  go  with 
me  to  call  on  this  girl  in  Malthouse  Yard.  I  will  open  the 
affair  to  her;  it  appears  she  is  not  likely  to  have  been  in- 
formed yet ;  and  you  will  invite  her  to  visit  you  here  at  once, 
that  all  scandal,  all  hatching  of  law-mischief,  may  be  avoided, 
and  the  thing  may  be  brought  to  an  amicable  conclusion." 

"  It  seems  almost  incredible  —  extraordinary  —  a  girl  in 
her  position,"  said  Mrs.  Transome,  with  difficulty.  It  would 
have  seemed  the  bitterest  humiliating  penance  if  another  sort 
of  suffering  had  left  any  room  in  her  heart. 

"  I  assure  you  she  is  a  lady  ;  I  saw  her  when  I  was  canvass- 
ing, and  was  amazed  at  the  time.  You  will  be  quite  struck 
with  her.  It  is  no  indignity  for  you  to  invite  her." 

"  Oh,"  said  Mrs.  Transome,  with  low-toned  bitterness,  "  I 
must  put  up  with  all  things  as  they  are  determined  for  me. 
When  shall  we  go  ?  " 

"Well,"  said  Harold,  looking  at  his  watch,  "it  is  hardly 
two  yet.  We  could  really  go  to-day,  when  you  have  lunched. 
It  is  better  to  lose  no  time.  I  '11  order  the  carriage." 

"  Stay,"  said  Mrs.   Transome,   making  a  desperate  effort. 


FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL.  357 

"  There  is  plenty  of  time.  I  shall  not  lunch.  I  have  a  word 
to  say." 

Harold  withdrew  his  hand  from  the  bell,  and  leaned  against 
the  mantel-piece  to  listen. 

"  You  see  I  comply  with  your  wish  at  once,  Harold  ?  " 

"  Yes,  mother,  I  'm  much  obliged  to  you  for  making  no 
difficulties." 

"  You  ought  to  listen  to  me  in  return." 

"  Pray  go  on,"  said  Harold,  expecting  to  be  annoyed. 

"  What  is  the  good  of  having  these  Chancery  proceedings 
against  Jermyn  ?  " 

"  Good  ?  This  good :  that  fellow  has  burdened  the  estate 
with  annuities  and  mortgages  to  the  extent  of  three  thousand 
a-year ;  and  the  bulk  of  them,  I  am  certain,  he  holds  himself 
under  the  name  of  another  man.  And  the  advances  this 
yearly  interest  represents,  have  not  been  much  more  than 
twenty  thousand.  Of  course  he  has  hoodwinked  you,  and  my 
father  never  gave  attention  to  these  things.  He  has  been  up 
to  all  sorts  of  devil's  work  with  the  deeds  ;  he  did  n't  count  on 
my  coming  back  from  Smyrna  to  fill  poor  Durfey's  place.  He 
shall  feel  the  difference.  And  the  good  will  be,  that  I  shall 
save  almost  all  the  annuities  for  the  rest  of  my  father's  life, 
which  may  be  ten  years  or  more,  and  I  shall  get  back  some  of 
the  money,  and  I  shall  punish  a  scoundrel.  That  is  the  good." 

"  He  will  be  ruined." 

"  That 's  what  I  intend,"  said  Harold,  sharply. 

"  He  exerted  himself  a  great  deal  for  us  in  the  old  suits : 
every  one  said  he  had  wonderful  zeal  and  ability,"  said  Mrs. 
Transome,  getting  courage  and  warmth  as  she  went  on.  Her 
temper  was  rising. 

"  What  he  did,  he  did  for  his  own  sake,  you  may  depend  on 
that,"  said  Harold,  with  a  scornful  laugh. 

"  There  were  very  painful  things  in  that  last  suit.  You 
seem  anxious  about  this  young  woman,  to  avoid  all  further 
scandal  and  contests  in  the  family.  Why  don't  you  wish  to 
do  it  in  this  case  ?  Jermyn  might  be  willing  to  arrange 
things  amicably  —  to  make  restitution  as  far  as  he  can —  if  he 
has  done  anything  wrong." 


358  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

"I  will  arrange  nothing  amicably  with  him,"  said  Harold, 
decisively.  "  If  he  has  ever  done  anything  scandalous  as  our 
agent,  let  him  bear  the  infamy.  And  the  right  way  to  throw 
the  infamy  on  him  is  to  show  the  world  that  he  has  robbed 
us,  and  that  I  mean  to  punish  him.  Why  do  you  wish  to 
shield  such  a  fellow,  mother  ?  It  has  been  chiefly  through 
him  that  you  have  had  to  lead  such  a  thrifty  miserable  life  — 
you  who  used  to  make  as  brilliant  a  figure  as  a  woman  need 
wish." 

Mrs.  Transome's  rising  temper  was  turned  into  a  horrible 
sensation,  as  painful  as  a  sudden  concussion  from  something 
hard  and  immovable  when  we  have  struck  out  with  our  fist, 
intending  to  hit  something  warm,  soft,  and  breathing,  like 
ourselves.  Poor  Mrs.  Transome's  strokes  were  sent  jarring 
back  on  her  by  a  hard  unalterable  past.  She  did  not  speak  in 
answer  to  Harold,  but  rose  from  the  chair  as  if  she  gave  up 
the  debate. 

"  Women  are  frightened  at  everything,  I  know,"  said  Harold, 
kindly,  feeling  that  he  had  been  a  little  harsh  after  his 
mother's  compliance.  "  And  you  have  been  used  for  so  many 
years  to  think  Jerinyn  a  law  of  nature.  Come,  mother,"  he 
went  on,  looking  at  her  gently,  and  resting  his  hands  on  her 
shoulders,  "look  cheerful.  We  shall  get  through  all  these 
difficulties.  And  this  girl  —  I  dare  say  she  will  be  quite  an 
interesting  visitor  for  you.  You  have  not  had  any  young  girl 
about  you  for  a  long  while.  Who  knows  ?  she  may  fall 
deeply  in  love  with  me,  and  I  may  be  obliged  to  marry  her." 

He  spoke  laughingly,  only  thinking  how  he  could  make  his 
mother  smile.  But  she  looked  at  him  seriously  and  said,  "  Do 
you  mean  that,  Harold  ?  " 

"  Am  I  not  capable  of  making  a  conquest  ?  Not  too  fat  yet 
—  a  handsome,  well-rounded  youth  of  thirty-four  ?  " 

She  was  forced  to  look  straight  at  the  beaming  face,  with 
its  rich  dark  color,  just  bent  a  little  over  her.  Why  could  she 
not  be  happy  in  this  son  whose  future  she  had  once  dreamed 
of,  and  who  had  been  as  fortunate  as  she  had  ever  hoped  ? 
The  tears  came,  not  plenteously,  but  making  her  dark  eyes  as 
large  and  bright  as  youth  had  once  made  them  without  tears. 


FELIX   HOLT,   THE  RADICAL.  359 

"  There,  there  ! "  said  Harold,  coaxingly.  "  Don't  be  afraid. 
You  shall  not  have  a  daughter-in-law  unless  she  is  a  pearl. 
Now  we  will  get  ready  to  go." 

In  half  an  hour  from  that  time  Mrs.  Transome  came  down, 
looking  majestic  in  sables  and  velvet,  ready  to  call  on  "the 
girl  in  Malthouse  Yard."  She  had  composed  herself  to  go 
through  this  task.  She  saw  there  was  nothing  better  to  be 
done.  After  the  resolutions  Harold  had  taken,  some  sort  of 
compromise  with  this  oddly  placed  heiress  was  the  result  most 
to  be  hoped  for  ;  if  the  compromise  turned  out  to  be  a  marriage 
—  well,  she  had  no  reason  to  care  much :  she  was  already 
powerless.  It  remained  to  be  seen  what  this  girl  was. 

The  carriage  was  to  be  driven  round  the  back  way,  to  avoid 
too  much  observation.  But  the  late  election  affairs  might 
account  for  Mr.  Lyon's  receiving  a  visit  from  the  unsuccessful 
Radical  candidate. 


CHAPTER   XXXVII. 

I  also  could  speak  as  ye  do ;  if  your  soul  were  in  my  soul's  stead,  I  could 
heap  up  words  against  you,  and  shake  mine  head  at  you.  —  Book  of  Job. 

IN  the  interval  since  Esther  parted  with  Felix  Holt  on  the 
day  of  the  riot,  she  had  gone  through  so  much  emotion,  and 
had  already  had  so  strong  a  shock  of  surprise,  that  she  was 
prepared  to  receive  any  new  incident  of  an  unwonted  kind  with 
comparative  equanimity. 

When  Mr.  Lyon  had  got  home  again  from  his  preaching 
excursion,  Felix  was  already  on  his  way  to  Loamford  Jail. 
The  little  minister  was  terribly  shaken  by  the  news.  He  saw 
no  clear  explanation  of  Felix  Holt's  conduct ;  for  the  state- 
ments Esther  had  heard  were  so  conflicting  that  she  had  not 
been  able  to  gather  distinctly  what  had  come  out  in  the  ex- 
amination by  the  magistrates.  But  Mr.  Lyon  felt  confident 
that  Felix  was  innocent  of  any  wish  to  abet  a  riot  or  the 


360  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL. 

infliction  of  injuries ;  what  he  chiefly  feared  was  that  in  the 
fatal  encounter  with  Tucker  he  had  been  moved  by  a  rash 
temper,  not  sufficiently  guarded  against  by  a  prayerful  and 
humble  spirit. 

"My  poor  young  friend  is  being  taught  with  mysterious 
severity  the  evil  of  a  too  confident  self-reliance,"  he  said  to 
Esther,  as  they  sat  opposite  to  each  other,  listening  and  speak- 
ing sadly. 

"  You  will  go  and  see  him,  father  ?  " 

"Verily  will  I.  But  I  must  straightway  go  and  see  that 
poor  afflicted  woman  whose  soul  is  doubtless  whirled  about  in 
this  trouble  like  a  shapeless  and  unstable  thing  driven  by 
divided  winds."  Mr.  Lyon  rose  and  took  his  hat  hastily, 
ready  to  walk  out,  with  his  great-coat  flying  open  and  expos- 
ing his  small  person  to  the  keen  air. 

"  Stay,  father,  pray,  till  you  have  had  some  food,"  said 
Esther,  putting  her  hand  on  his  arm.  "  You  look  quite  weary 
and  shattered." 

"  Child,  I  cannot  stay.  I  can  neither  eat  bread  nor  drink 
water  till  I  have  learned  more  about  this  young  man's  deeds, 
what  can  be  proved  and  what  cannot  be  proved  against  him. 
I  fear  he  has  none  to  stand  by  him  in  this  town,  for  even  by 
the  friends  of  our  church  I  have  been  ofttimes  rebuked  because 
he  seemed  dear  to  me.  But,  Esther,  my  beloved  child  —  " 

Here  Mr.  Lyon  grasped  her  arm,  and  seemed  in  the  need  of 
speech  to  forget  his  previous  haste.  "  I  bear  in  mind  this : 
the  Lord  knoweth  them  that  are  His ;  but  we  —  we  are  left 
to  judge  by  uncertain  signs,  that  so  we  may  learn  to  exercise 
hope  and  faith  towards  one  another ;  and  in  this  uncertainty 
I  cling  with  awful  hope  to  those  whom  the  world  loves  not 
because  their  conscience,  albeit  mistakenly,  is  at  war  with  the 
habits  of  the  world.  Our  great  faith,  my  Esther,  is  the  faith 
of  martyrs  :  I  will  not  lightly  turn  away  from  any  man  who 
endures  harshness  because  he  will  not  lie  ;  nay,  though  I  would 
not  wantonly  grasp  at  ease  of  mind  through  an  arbitrary  choice 
of  doctrine,  I  cannot  but  believe  that  the  merits  of  the  Divine 
Sacrifice  are  wider  than  our  utmost  charity.  I  once  believed 
otherwise  —  but  not  now,  not  now." 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  361 

The  minister  paused,  and  seemed  to  be  abstractedly  gazing 
at  some  memory :  he  was  always  liable  to  be  snatched  away 
by  thoughts  from  the  pursuit  of  a  purpose  which  had  seemed 
pressing.  Esther  seized  the  opportunity  and  prevailed  on  him 
to  fortify  himself  with  some  of  Lyddy's  porridge  before  he 
went  out  on  his  tiring  task  of  seeking  definite  trustworthy 
knowledge  from  the  lips  of  various  witnesses,  beginning  with 
that  feminine  darkener  of  counsel,  poor  Mrs.  Holt. 

She,  regarding  all  her  trouble  about  Felix  in  the  light  of  a 
fulfilment  of  her  own  prophecies,  treated  the  sad  history  with 
a  preference  for  edification  above  accuracy,  and  for  mystery 
above  relevance,  worthy  of  a  commentator  on  the  Apocalypse. 
She  insisted  chiefly,  not  on  the  important  facts  that  Felix  had 
sat  at  his  work  till  after  eleven,  like  a  deaf  man,  had  rushed 
out  in  surprise  and  alarm,  had  come  back  to  report  with  satis- 
faction that  things  were  quiet,  and  had  asked  her  to  set  by  his 
dinner  for  him  —  facts  which  would  tell  as  evidence  that  Felix 
was  disconnected  with  any  project  of  disturbances,  and  was 
averse  to  them.  These  things  came  out  incidentally  in  her 
long  plaint  to  the  minister  ;  but  what  Mrs.  Holt  felt  it  essen- 
tial to  state  was,  that  long  before  Michaelmas  was  turned, 
sitting  in  her  chair,  she  had  said  to  Felix  that  there  would  be 
a  judgment  on  him  for  being  so  certain  sure  about  the  Pills 
and  the  Elixir. 

"And  now,  Mr.  Lyon,"  said  the  poor  woman,  who  had 
dressed  herself  in  a  gown  previously  cast  off,  a  front  all  out 
of  curl,  and  a  cap  with  no  starch  in  it,  while  she  held  little 
coughing  Job  on  her  knee,  —  "and  now  you  see  —  my  words 
have  come  true  sooner  than  I  thought  they  would.  Felix  may 
contradict  me  if  he  will ;  but  there  he  is  in  prison,  and  here 
am  I,  with  nothing  in  the  world  to  bless  myself  with  but  half- 
a-crown  a-week  as  I  've  saved  by  my  own  scraping,  and  this 
house  I  've  got  to  pay  rent  for.  It 's  not  me  has  done  wrong, 
Mr.  Lyon  ;  there  's  nobody  can  say  it  of  me  —  not  the  orphan 
child  on  my  knee  is  more  innicent  o'  riot  and  murder  and  any- 
thing else  as  is  bad.  But  when  you  've  got  a  son  so  masterful 
and  stopping  medicines  as  Providence  has  sent,  and  his  betters 
have  been  taking  up  and  down  the  country  since  before  he 


362  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

was  a  baby,  it 's  o'  no  use  being  good  here  below.  But  he  was 
a  baby,  Mr.  Lyon,  and  I  gave  him  the  breast," — here  poor 
Mrs.  Holt's  motherly  love  overcame  her  expository  eagerness, 
and  she  fell  more  and  more  to  crying  as  she  spoke  —  "And  to 
think  there  's  folks  saying  now  as  he  '11  be  transported,  and 
his  hair  shaved  off,  and  the  treadmill,  and  everything.  Oh 
dear ! " 

As  Mrs.  Holt  broke  off  into  sobbing,  little  Job  also,  who  had 
got  a  confused  yet  profound  sense  of  sorrow,  and  of  Felix  being 
hurt  and  gone  away,  set  up  a  little  wail  of  wondering  misery. 

"Nay,  Mistress  Holt,"  said  the  minister,  soothingly,  "en- 
large not  your  grief  by  more  than  warrantable  grounds.  I 
have  good  hope  that  my  young  friend  your  son  will  be  deliv- 
ered from  any  severe  consequences  beyond  the  death  of  the 
man  Tucker,  which  I  fear  will  ever  be  a  sore  burthen  on 
his  memory.  I  feel  confident  that  a  jury  of  his  countrymen 
will  discern  between  misfortune,  or  it  may  be  misjudgment, 
and  an  evil  will,  and  that  he  will  be  acquitted  of  any  grave 
offence." 

"  He  never  stole  anything  in  his  life,  Mr.  Lyon,"  said  Mrs. 
Holt,  reviving.  "  Nobody  can  throw  it  in  my  face  as  my  son 
ran  away  with  money  like  the  young  man  at  the  bank  — 
though  he  looked  most  respectable,  and  far  different  on  a 
Sunday  to  what  Felix  ever  did.  And  I  know  it 's  very  hard 
fighting  with  constables  ;  but  they  say  Tucker's  wife  Jll  be  a 
deal  better  off  than  she  was  before,  for  the  great  folks  '11  pen- 
sion her,  and  she  '11  be  put  on  all  the  charities,  and  her  chil- 
dren at  the  Free  School,  and  everything.  Your  trouble 's  easy 
borne  when  everybody  gives  it  a  lift  for  you ;  and  if  judge 
and  jury  wants  to  do  right  by  Felix,  they  '11  think  of  his  poor 
mother,  with  the  bread  took  out  of  her  mouth,  all  but  half-a- 
crown  a-week  and  furniture  —  which,  to  be  sure,  is  most  excel- 
lent, and  of  my  own  buying  —  and  got  to  keep  this  orphin 
child  as  Felix  himself  brought  on  me.  And  I  might  send  him 
back  to  his  old  grandfather  on  parish  pay,  but  I  'm  not  that 
woman,  Mr.  Lyon :  I  've  a  tender  heart.  And  here 's  his  little 
feet  and  toes,  like  marbil ;  do  but  look  "  —  here  Mrs.  Holt 
drew  off  Job's  sock  and  shoe,  and  showed  a  well-washed  little 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  363 

foot  —  "  and  you  '11  perhaps  say  I  might  take  a  lodger  ;  but 
it 's  easy  talking ;  it  is  n't  everybody  at  a  loose-end  wants  a 
parlor  and  a  bedroom  ;  and  if  anything  bad  happens  to  Felix, 
I  may  as  well  go  and  sit  in  the  parish  Pound,  and  nobody  to 
buy  me  out ;  for  it 's  beyond  everything  how  the  church  mem- 
bers find  fault  with  my  son.  But  I  think  they  might  leave 
his  mother  to  find  fault ;  for  queer  and  masterful  he  might 
be,  and  flying  in  the  face  of  the  very  Scripture  about  the 
physic,  but  he  was  most  clever  beyond  anything  —  that  I  will 
say  —  and  was  his  own  father's  lawful  child,  and  me  his 
mother,  that  was  Mary  Wall  thirty  years  before  ever  I  married 
his  father."  Here  Mrs.  Holt's  feelings  again  became  too 
much  for  her,  but  she  struggled  on  to  say,  sobbingly,  "  And  if 
they  're  to  transport  him,  I  should  like  to  go  to  the  prison  and 
take  the  orphin  child ;  for  he  was  most  fond  of  having  him  on 
his  lap,  and  said  he  'd  never  marry  ;  and  there  was  One  above 
overheard  him,  for  he  's  been  took  at  his  word." 

Mr.  Lyon  listened  with  low  groans,  and  then  tried  to  com- 
fort her  by  saying  that  he  would  himself  go  to  Loamford  as 
soon  as  possible,  and  would  give  his  soul  no  rest  till  he  had 
done  all  he  could  do  for  Felix. 

On  one  point  Mrs.  Holt's  plaint  tallied  with  his  own  fore- 
bodings, and  he  found  them  verified  :  the  state  of  feeling  in 
Treby  among  the  Liberal  Dissenting  flock  was  unfavorable  to 
Felix.  None  who  had  observed  his  conduct  from  the  windows 
saw  anything  tending  to  excuse  him,  and  his  own  account  of 
his  motives,  given  on  his  examination,  was  spoken  of  with 
head-shaking ;  if  it  had  not  been  for  his  habit  of  always 
thinking  himself  wiser  than  other  people,  he  would  never 
have  entertained  such  a  wild  scheme.  He  had  set  himself  up 
for  something  extraordinary,  and  had  spoken  ill  of  respectable 
tradespeople.  He  had  put  a  stop  to  the  making  of  salable 
drugs,  contrary  to  the  nature  of  buying  and  selling,  and  to  a 
due  reliance  on  what  Providence  might  effect  in  the  human 
inside  through  the  instrumentality  of  remedies  unsuitable  to 
the  stomach,  looked  at  in  a  merely  secular  light ;  and  the 
result  was  what  might  have  been  expected.  He  had  brought 
his  mother  to  poverty,  and  himself  into  trouble.  And  what 


364  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

for  ?  He  had  done  no  good  to  "  the  cause ;  "  if  he  had  fought 
about  Church-rates,  or  had  been  worsted  in  some  struggle  in 
which  he  was  distinctly  the  champion  of  Dissent  and  Liberal- 
ism, his  case  would  have  been  one  for  gold,  silver,  and  copper 
subscriptions,  in  order  to  procure  the  best  defence ;  sermons 
might  have  been  preached  on  him,  and  his  name  might  have 
floated  on  flags  from  Newcastle  to  Dorchester.  But  there 
seemed  to  be  no  edification  in  what  had  befallen  Felix.  The 
riot  at  Treby,  "  turn  it  which  way  you  would,"  as  Mr.  Muscat 
observed,  was  no  great  credit  to  Liberalism ;  and  what  Mr.  Lyon 
had  to  testify  as  to  Felix  Holt's  conduct  in  the  matter  of  the 
Sproxton  men,  only  made  it  clear  that  the  defence  of  Felix 
was  the  accusation  of  his  party.  The  whole  affair,  Mr.  Nutt- 
wood  said,  was  dark  and  inscrutable,  and  seemed  not  to  be  one 
in  which  the  interference  of  God's  servants  would  tend  to 
give  the  glory  where  the  glory  was  due.  That  a  candidate 
for  whom  the  richer  church  members  had  all  voted  should 
have  his  name  associated  with  the  encouragement  of  drunken- 
ness, riot,  and  plunder,  was  an  occasion  for  the  enemy  to  blas- 
pheme ;  and  it  was  not  clear  how  the  enemy's  mouth  would 
be  stopped  by  exertions  in  favor  of  a  rash  young  man,  whose 
interference  had  made  things  worse  instead  of  better.  Mr. 
Lyon  was  warned  lest  his  human  partialities  should  blind  him 
to  the  interests  of  truth  :  it  was  God's  cause  that  was  endan- 
gered in  this  matter. 

The  little  minister's  soul  was  bruised ;  he  himself  was 
keenly  alive  to  the  complication  of  public  and  private  regards 
in  this  affair,  and  suffered  a  good  deal  at  the  thought  of  Tory 
triumph  in  the  demonstration  that,  excepting  the  attack  on 
the  Seven  Stars,  which  called  itself  a  Whig  house,  all  damage 
to  property  had  been  borne  by  Tories.  He  cared  intensely 
for  his  opinions,  and  would  have  liked  events  to  speak  for 
them  in  a  sort  of  picture-writing  that  everybody  could  under- 
stand. The  enthusiasms  of  the  world  are  not  to  be  stimulated 
by  a  commentary  in  small  and  subtle  characters  which  alone 
can  tell  the  whole  truth ;  and  the  picture-writing  in  Felix 
Holt's  troubles  was  of  an  entirely  puzzling  kind :  if  he  were 
a  martyr,  neither  side  wanted  to  claim  him.  Yet  the  minister, 


FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL.  365 

as  we  have  seen,  found  in  his  Christian  faith  a  reason  for 
clinging  the  more  to  one  who  had  not  a  large  party  to  back 
him.  That  little  man's  heart  was  heroic ;  he  was  not  one  of 
those  Liberals  who  make  their  anxiety  for  "  the  cause "  of 
Liberalism  a  plea  for  cowardly  desertion. 

Besides  himself,  he  believed  there  was  no  one  who  could 
bear  testimony  to  the  remonstrances  of  Felix  concerning  the 
treating  of  the  Sproxton  men,  except  Jermyn,  Johnson,  and 
Harold  Transome.  Though  he  had  the  vaguest  idea  of  what 
could  be  done  in  the  case,  he  fixed  his  mind  on  the  probability 
that  Mr.  Transome  would  be  moved  to  the  utmost  exertion,  if 
only  as  an  atonement ;  but  he  dared  not  take  any  step  until 
he  had  consulted  Felix,  who  he  foresaw  was  likely  to  have  a 
very  strong  determination  as  to  the  help  he  would  accept  or 
not  accept. 

This  last  expectation  was  fulfilled.  Mr.  Lyon  returned  to 
Esther,  after  his  day's  journey  to  Loamford  and  back,  with 
less  of  trouble  and  perplexity  in  his  mind  :  he  had  at  least  got 
a  definite  course  marked  out,  to  which  he  must  resign  him- 
self. Felix  had  declared  that  he  would  receive  no  aid  from 
Harold  Transome,  except  the  aid  he  might  give  as  an  honest 
witness.  There  was  nothing  to  be  done  for  him  but  what  was 
perfectly  simple  and  direct.  Even  if  the  pleading  of  counsel 
had  been  permitted  (and  at  that  time  it  was  not)  on  behalf  of 
a  prisoner  on  trial  for  felony,  Felix  would  have  declined  it : 
he  would  in  any  case  have  spoken  in  his  own  defence.  He 
had  a  perfectly  simple  account  to  give,  and  needed  not  to 
avail  himself  of  any  legal  adroitness.  He  consented  to  accept 
the  services  of  a  respectable  solicitor  in  Loamford,  who  offered 
to  conduct  his  case  without  any  fees.  The  work  was  plain 
and  easy,  Felix  said.  The  only  witnesses  who  had  to  be 
hunted  up  at  all  were  some  who  could  testify  that  he  had 
tried  to  take  the  crowd  down  Hobb's  Lane,  and  that  they  had 
gone  to  the  Manor  in  spite  of  him. 

"  Then  he  is  not  so  much  cast  down  as  you  feared,  father  ?  " 
said  Esther. 

"  No,  child  ;  albeit  he  is  pale  and  much  shaken  for  one  so 
stalwart.  He  hath  no  grief,  he  says,  save  for  the  poor  man 


366  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

Tucker,  and  for  his  mother ;  otherwise  his  heart  is  without  a 
burthen.  We  discoursed  greatly  on  the  sad  effect  of  all  this 
for  his  mother,  and  on  the  perplexed  condition  of  human 
things,  whereby  even  right  action  seems  to  bring  evil  conse- 
quences, if  we  have  respect  only  to  our  own  brief  lives,  and 
not  to  that  larger  rule  whereby  we  are  stewards  of  the  eter- 
nal dealings,  and  not  contrivers  of  our  own  success." 

"  Did  he  say  nothing  about  me,  father  ? "  said  Esther, 
trembling  a  little,  but  unable  to  repress  her  egoism. 

"  Yea ;  he  asked  if  you  were  well,  and  sent  his  affectionate 
regards.  Nay,  he  bade  me  say  something  which  appears  to 
refer  to  your  discourse  together  when  I  was  not  present. 
<  Tell  her,'  he  said,  '  whatever  they  sentence  me  to,  she  knows 
they  can't  rob  me  of  my  vocation.  With  poverty  for  my 
bride,  and  preaching  and  pedagogy  for  niy  business,  I  am 
sure  of  a  handsome  establishment.'  He  laughed  —  doubtless 
bearing  in  mind  some  playfulness  of  thine." 

Mr.  Lyon  seemed  to  be  looking  at  Esther  as  he  smiled,  but 
she  was  not  near  enough  for  him  to  discern  the  expression  of 
her  face.  Just  then  it  seemed  made  for  melancholy  rather 
than  for  playfulness.  Hers  was  not  a  childish  beauty ;  and 
when  the  sparkle  of  mischief,  wit,  and  vanity  was  out  of  her 
eyes,  and  the  large  look  of  abstracted  sorrow  was  there,  you 
would  have  been  surprised  by  a  certain  grandeur  which  the 
smiles  had  hidden.  That  changing  face  was  the  perfect  sym- 
bol of  her  mixed  susceptible  nature,  in  which  battle  was  inevi- 
table, and  the  side  of  victory  uncertain. 

She  began  to  look  on  all  that  had  passed  between  herself 
and  Felix  as  something  not  buried,  but  embalmed  and  kept  as 
a  relic  in  a  private  sanctuary.  The  very  entireness  of  her 
preoccupation  about  him,  the  perpetual  repetition  in  her 
memory  of  all  that  had  passed  between  them,  tended  to  pro- 
duce this  effect.  She  lived  with  him  in  the  past ;  in  the 
future  she  seemed  shut  out  from  him.  He  was  an  influence 
above  her  life,  rather  than  a  part  of  it ;  some  time  or  other, 
perhaps,  he  would  be  to  her  as  if  he  belonged  to  the  solemn 
admonishing  skies,  checking  her  self-satisfied  pettiness  with 
the  suggestion  of  a  wider  life. 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  867 

But  not  yet  —  not  while  her  trouble  was  so  fresh.  For  it 
was  still  her  trouble,  and  not  Felix  Holt's.  Perhaps  it  was  a 
subtraction  from  his  power  over  her,  that  she  could  never 
think  of  him  with  pity,  because  he  always  seemed  to  her  too 
great  and  strong  to  be  pitied  :  he  wanted  nothing.  He  evaded 
calamity  by  choosing  privation.  The  best  part  of  a  woman's 
love  is  worship ;  but  it  is  hard  to  her  to  be  sent  away  with  her 
precious  spikenard  rejected,  and  her  long  tresses  too,  that  were 
let  fall  ready  to  soothe  the  wearied  feet. 

While  Esther  was  carrying  these  things  in  her  heart,  the 
January  days  were  beginning  to  pass  by  with  their  wonted 
wintry  monotony,  except  that  there  was  rather  more  of  good 
cheer  than  usual  remaining  from  the  feast  of  Twelfth  Night 
among  the  triumphant  Tories,  and  rather  more  scandal  than 
usual  excited  among  the  mortified  Dissenters  by  the  wilful- 
ness  of  their  minister.  He  had  actually  mentioned  Felix  Holt 
by  name  in  his  evening  sermon,  and  offered  up  a  petition  for 
him  in  the  evening  prayer,  also  by  name  —  not  as  "  a  young 
Ishmaelite,  whom  we  would  fain  see  brought  back  from  the 
lawless  life  of  the  desert,  and  seated  in  the  same  fold  even 
with  the  sons  of  Judah  and  of  Benjamin,"  a  suitable  peri- 
phrasis which  Brother  Kemp  threw  off  without  any  effort,  and 
with  all  the  felicity  of  a  suggestive  critic.  Poor  Mrs.  Holt, 
indeed,  even  in  the  midst  of  her  grief,  experienced  a  proud 
satisfaction,  that  though  not  a  church  member  she  was  now 
an  object  of  congregational  remark  and  ministerial  allusion. 
Feeling  herself  a  spotless  character  standing  out  in  relief  on 
a  dark  background  of  affliction,  and  a  practical  contradiction 
to  that  extreme  doctrine  of  human  depravity  which  she  had 
never  "  given  in  to,"  she  was  naturally  gratified  and  soothed 
by  a  notice  which  must  be  a  recognition.  But  more  influen- 
tial hearers  were  of  opinion,  that  in  a  man  who  had  so  many 
long  sentences  at  command  as  Mr.  Lyon,  so  many  parentheses 
and  modifying  clauses,  this  naked  use  of  a  non-scriptural 
Treby  name  in  an  address  to  the  Almighty  was  all  the  more 
offensive.  In  a  low  unlettered  local  preacher  of  the  \Vesleyan 
persuasion  such  things  might  pass;  but  a  certain  style  in 
prayer  was  demanded  from  Independents,  the  most  educated 


368  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

body  in  the  ranks  of  orthodox  Dissent.  To  Mr.  Lyon  such 
notions  seemed  painfully  perverse,  and  the  next  morning  he 
was  declaring  to  Esther  his  resolution  stoutly  to  withstand 
them,  and  to  count  nothing  common  or  unclean  on  which  a 
blessing  could  be  asked,  when  the  tenor  of  his  thoughts  was 
completely  changed  by  a  great  shock  of  surprise  which  made 
both  himself  and  Esther  sit  looking  at  each  other  in  speechless 
amazement. 

The  cause  was  a  letter  brought  by  a  special  messenger  from 
Duffield ;  a  heavy  letter  addressed  to  Esther  in  a  business-like 
manner,  quite  unexampled  in  her  correspondence.  And  the 
contents  of  the  letter  were  more  startling  than  its  exterior. 
It  began :  — 

MADAM,  — Herewith  we  send  you  a  brief  abstract  of  evidence  which 
has  come  within  our  knowledge,  that  the  right  of  remainder  whereby 
the  lineal  issue  of  Edward  Bycliffe  can  claim  possession  of  the  estates 
of  which  the  entail  was  settled  by  John  Justus  Transome  in  1729,  now 
first  accrues  to  you  as  the  sole  and  lawful  issue  of  Maurice  Christian 
Bycliffe.  We  are  confident  of  success  in  the  prosecution  of  this  claim, 
which  will  result  to  you  in  the  possession  of  estates  to  the  value,  at 
the  lowest,  of  from  five  to  six  thousand  per  annum  — 

It  was  at  this  point  that  Esther,  who  was  reading  aloud,  let 
her  hand  fall  with  the  letter  on  her  lap,  and  with  a  palpitating 
heart  looked  at  her  father,  who  looked  again,  in  silence  that 
lasted  for  two  or  three  minutes.  A  certain  terror  was  upon 
them  both,  though  the  thoughts  that  laid  that  weight  on  the 
tongue  of  each  were  different. 

It  was  Mr.  Lyon  who  spoke  first. 

"  This,  then,  is  what  the  man  named  Christian  referred  to. 
I  distrusted  him,  yet  it  seems  he  spoke  truly." 

"But,"  said  Esther,  whose  imagination  ran  necessarily  to 
those  conditions  of  wealth  which  she  could  best  appreciate, 
"  do  they  mean  that  the  Transomes  would  be  turned  out  of 
Transome  Court,  and  that  I  should  go  and  live  there  ?  It 
seems  quite  an  impossible  thing." 

"  Xay,  child,  I  know  not.  I  am  ignorant  in  these  things, 
and  the  thought  of  worldly  grandeur  for  you  hath  more  of 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  369 

terror  than  of  gladness  for  me.  Nevertheless  we  must  duly 
weigh  all  things,  not  considering  aught  that  befalls  us  as  a 
bare  event,  but  rather  as  an  occasion  for  faithful  stewardship. 
Let  us  go  to  my  study  and  consider  this  writing  further." 

How  this  announcement,  which  to  Esther  seemed  as  un- 
prepared as  if  it  had  fallen  from  the  skies,  came  to  be  made 
to  her  by  solicitors  other  than  Batt  &  Cowley,  the  old  lawyers 
of  the  Bycliffes,  was  by  a  sequence  as  natural,  that  is  to  say, 
as  legally  natural,  as  any  in  the  world.  The  secret  worker  of 
the  apparent  wonder  was  Mr.  Johnson,  who,  on  the  very  day 
when  he  wrote  to  give  his  patron,  Mr.  Jermyn,  the  serious 
warning  that  a  bill  was  likely  to  be  filed  in  Chancery  against 
him,  had  carried  forward  with  added  zeal  the  business  already 
commenced,  of  arranging  with  another  firm  his  share  in  the 
profits  likely  to  result  from  the  prosecution  of  Esther  Bycliffe's 
claim. 

Jermyn's  star  was  certainly  going  down,  and  Johnson  did 
not  feel  an  unmitigated  grief.  Beyond  some  troublesome  dec- 
larations as  to  his  actual  share  in  transactions  in  which  his 
name  had  been  used,  Johnson  saw  nothing  formidable  in  pros- 
pect for  himself.  He  was  not  going  to  be  ruined,  though 
Jermyn  probably  was:  he  was  not  a  highflyer,  but  a  mere 
climbing-bird,  who  could  hold  on  and  get  his  livelihood  just  as 
well  if  his  wings  were  clipped  a  little.  And,  in  the  mean  time, 
here  was  something  to  be  gained  in  this  Bycliffe  business, 
which,  it  was  not  unpleasant  to  think,  was  a  nut  that  Jermyn 
had  intended  to  keep  for  his  own  particular  cracking,  and  which 
would  be  rather  a  severe  astonishment  to  Mr.  Harold  Tran- 
some,  whose  manners  towards  respectable  agents  were  such  as 
leave  a  smart  in  a  man  of  spirit. 

Under  the  stimulus  of  small  many-mixed  motives  like  these, 
a  great  deal  of  business  has  been  done  in  the  world  by  well- 
clad  and,  in  1833,  clean-shaven  men,  whose  names  are  on  charity- 
lists,  and  who  do  not  know  that  they  are  base.  Mr.  Johnson's 
character  was  not  much  more  exceptional  than  his  double  chin. 

No  system,  religious  or  political,  I  believe,  has  laid  it  down  as 
a  principle  that  all  men  are  alike  virtuous,  or  even  that  all  the 
people  rated  for  £80  houses  are  an  honor  to  their  species. 

VOL.    III.  21 


370  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 


CHAPTER  XXXVIII. 

The  down  we  rest  on  in  our  aery  dreams 

Has  not  been  plucked  from  birds  that  live  and  smart : 

'T  is  but  warm  snow,  that  melts  not. 

THE  story  and  the  prospect  revealed  to  Esther  by  the  law- 
yers' letter,  which  she  and  her  father  studied  together,  had 
made  an  impression  on  her  very  different  from  what  she  had 
been  used  to  figure  to  herself  in  her  many  day-dreams  as  to  the 
effect  of  a  sudden  elevation  in  rank  and  fortune.  In  her  day- 
dreams she  had  not  traced  out  the  means  by  which  such  a 
change  could  be  brought  about ;  in  fact,  the  change  had  seemed 
impossible  to  her,  except  in  her  little  private  Utopia,  which, 
like  other  Utopias,  was  filled  with  delightful  results,  indepen- 
dent of  processes.  But  her  mind  had  fixed  itself  habitually 
on  the  signs  and  luxuries  of  ladyhood,  for  which  she  had  the 
keenest  perception.  She  had  seen  the  very  mat  in  her  carriage, 
had  scented  the  dried  rose-leaves  in  her  corridors,  had  felt  the 
soft  carpets  under  her  pretty  feet,  and  seen  herself,  as  she  rose 
from  her  sofa  cushions,  in  the  crystal  panel  that  reflected  a 
long  drawing-room,  where  the  conservatory  flowers  and  the 
pictures  of  fair  women  left  her  still  with  the  supremacy  of 
charm.  She  had  trodden  the  marble-firm  gravel  of  her  garden- 
walks  and  the  soft  deep  turf  of  her  lawn ;  she  had  had  her 
servants  about  her  filled  with  adoring  respect,  because  of  her 
kindness  as  well  as  her  grace  and  beauty ;  and  she  had  had 
several  accomplished  cavaliers  all  at  once  suing  for  her  hand 
—  one  of  whom,  uniting  very  high  birth  with  long  dark  eye- 
lashes and  the  most  distinguished  talents,  she  secretly  pre- 
ferred, though  his  pride  and  hers  hindered  an  avowal,  and 
supplied  the  inestimable  interest  of  retardation.  The  glimpses 
she  had  had  in  her  brief  life  as  a  family  governess,  supplied 
her  ready  faculty  with  details  enough  of  delightful  still  life 
to  furnish  her  day-dreams;  and  no  one  who  has  not,  like 


FELIX   HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  371 

Esther,  a  strong  natural  prompting  and  susceptibility  towards 
such  things,  and  has  at  the  same  time  suffered  from  the  pres- 
ence of  opposite  conditions,  can  understand  how  powerfully 
those  minor  accidents  of  rank  which  please  the  fastidious  sense 
can  preoccupy  the  imagination. 

It  seemed  that  almost  everything  in  her  day-dreams  —  cava- 
liers apart  —  must  be  found  at  Transome  Court.  But  now  that 
fancy  was  becoming  real,  and  the  impossible  appeared  possible, 
Esther  found  the  balance  of  her  attention  reversed :  now  that  her 
ladyhood  was  not  simply  in  Utopia,  she  found  herself  arrested 
and  painfully  grasped  by  the  means  through  which  the  lady- 
hood was  to  be  obtained.  To  her  inexperience  this  strange 
story  of  an  alienated  inheritance,  of  such  a  last  representative 
of  pure-blooded  lineage  as  old  Thomas  Transome  the  bill- 
sticker,  above  all  of  the  dispossession  hanging  over  those  who 
actually  held,  and  had  expected  always  to  hold,  the  wealth  and 
position  which  were  suddenly  announced  to  be  rightly  hers  — 
all  these  things  made  a  picture,  not  for  her  own  tastes  and 
fancies  to  float  in  with  Elysian  indulgence,  but  in  which  she 
was  compelled  to  gaze  on  the  degrading  hard  experience  of 
other  human  beings,  and  on  a  humiliating  loss  which  was  the 
obverse  of  her  own  proud  gain.  Even  in  her  times  of  most 
untroubled  egoism  Esther  shrank  from  anything  ungenerous ; 
and  the  fact  that  she  had  a  very  lively  image  of  Harold  Tran- 
some and  his  gypsy-eyed  boy  in  her  mind,  gave  additional  dis- 
tinctness to  the  thought  that  if  she  entered  they  must  depart. 
Of  the  elder  Transomes  she  had  a  dimmer  vision,  and  they 
were  necessarily  in  the  background  to  her  sympathy. 

She  and  her  father  sat  with  their  hands  locked,  as  they  might 
have  done  if  they  had  been  listening  to  a  solemn  oracle  in  the 
days  of  old  revealing  unknown  kinship  and  rightful  heirdom. 
It  was  not  that  Esther  had  any  thought  of  renouncing  her  for- 
tune ;  she  was  incapable,  in  these  moments,  of  condensing  her 
vague  ideas  and  feelings  into  any  distinct  plan  of  action,  nor 
indeed  did  it  seem  that  she  was  called  upon  to  act  with  any 
promptitude.  It  was  only  that  she  was  conscious  of  being 
strangely  awed  by  something  that  was  called  good  fortune; 
and  the  awe  shut  out  any  scheme  of  rejection  as  much  as  any 


372  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

triumphant  joy  in  acceptance.  Her  first  father,  she  learned, 
had  died  disappointed  and  in  wrongful  imprisonment,  and  an 
undefined  sense  of  Nemesis  seemed  half  to  sanctify  her  inheri- 
tance, and  counteract  its  apparent  arbitrariness. 

Felix  Holt  was  present  in  her  mind  throughout :  what  he 
would  say  was  an  imaginary  commentary  that  she  was  con- 
stantly framing,  and  the  words  that  she  most  frequently  gave 
him  —  for  she  dramatized  under  the  inspiration  of  a  sadness 
slightly  bitter  —  were  of  this  kind :  "  That  is  clearly  your  des- 
tiny —  to  be  aristocratic,  to  be  rich.  I  always  saw  that  our 
lots  lay  widely  apart.  You  are  not  fit  for  poverty,  or  any  work 
of  difficulty.  But  remember  what  I  once  said  to  you  about  a 
vision  of  consequences ;  take  care  where  your  fortune  leads 
you." 

Her  father  had  not  spoken  since  they  had  ended  their  study 
and  discussion  of  the  story  and  the  evidence  as  it  was  presented 
to  them.  Into  this  he  had  entered  with  his  usual  penetrating 
activity ;  but  he  was  so  accustomed  to  the  impersonal  study 
of  narrative,  that  even  in  these  exceptional  moments  the  habit 
of  half  a  century  asserted  itself,  and  he  seemed  sometimes  not 
to  distinguish  the  case  of  Esther's  inheritance  from  a  story  in 
ancient  history,  until  some  detail  recalled  him  to  the  profound 
feeling  that  a  great,  great  change  might  be  coming  over  the  life 
of  this  child  who  was  so  close  to  him.  At  last  he  relapsed  into 
total  silence,  and  for  some  time  Esther  was  not  moved  to  inter- 
rupt it.  He  had  sunk  back  in  his  chair,  with  his  hand  locked 
in  hers,  and  was  pursuing  a  sort  of  prayerful  meditation :  he 
lifted  up  no  formal  petition,  but  it  was  as  if  his  soul  travelled 
again  over  the  facts  he  had  been  considering  in  the  company 
of  a  guide  ready  to  inspire  and  correct  him.  He  was  striving 
to  purify  his  feeling  in  this  matter  from  selfish  or  worldly 
dross  —  a  striving  which  is  that  prayer  without  ceasing,  sure 
to  wrest  an  answer  by  its  sublime  importunity. 

There  is  no  knowing  how  long  they  might  have  sat  in  this 
way,  if  it  had  not  been  for  the  inevitable  Lyddy  reminding 
them  dismally  of  dinner. 

"Yes,  Lyddy,  we  come,"  said  Esther;  and  then,  before 
moving  — 


FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL.  378 

"  Is  there  any  advice  you  have  in  your  mind  for  me,  father  ?  " 
The  sense  of  awe  was  growing  in  Esther.  Her  intensest  life 
was  no  longer  in  her  dreams,  where  she  made  things  to  her  own 
mind :  she  was  moving  in  a  world  charged  with  forces. 

"Not  yet,  my  dear  —  save  this :  that  you  will  seek  special 
illumination  in  this  juncture,  and,  above  all,  be  watchful  that 
your  soul  be  not  lifted  up  within  you  by  what,  rightly  consid- 
ered, is  rather  an  increase  of  charge,  and  a  call  upon  you  to 
walk  along  a  path  which  is  indeed  easy  to  the  flesh,  but  dan- 
gerous to  the  spirit." 

"  You  would  always  live  with  me,  father  ?  "  Esther  spoke 
under  a  strong  impulse  —  partly  affection,  partly  the  need  to 
grasp  at  some  moral  help.  But  she  had  no  sooner  uttered  the 
words  than  they  raised  a  vision,  showing,  as  by  a  flash  of 
lightning,  the  incongruity  of  that  past  which  had  created  the 
sanctities  and  affections  of  her  life  with  that  future  which  was 
coming  to  her.  .  .  .  The  little  rusty  old  minister,  with  the  one 
luxury  of  his  Sunday  evening  pipe,  smoked  up  the  kitchen  chim- 
ney, coming  to  live  in  the  midst  of  grandeur  .  .  .  but  no !  her 
father,  with  the  grandeur  of  his  past  sorrow  and  his  long  strug- 
gling labors,  forsaking  his  vocation,  and  vulgarly  accepting  an 
existence  unsuited  to  him.  .  .  .  Esther's  face  flushed  with  the 
excitement  of  this  vision  and  its  reversed  interpretation,  which 
five  months  ago  she  would  have  been  incapable  of  seeing.  Her 
question  to  her  father  seemed  like  a  mockery;  she  was 
ashamed.  He  answered  slowly  — 

"  Touch  not  that  chord  yet,  child.  I  must  learn  to  think 
of  thy  lot  according  to  the  demands  of  Providence.  We  will 
rest  awhile  from  the  subject ;  and  I  will  seek  calmness  in  my 
ordinary  duties." 

The  next  morning  nothing  more  was  said.  Mr.  Lyon  was 
absorbed  in  his  sermon-making,  for  it  was  near  the  end  of  the 
week,  and  Esther  was  obliged  to  attend  to  her  pupils.  Mrs. 
Holt  came  by  invitation  with  little  Job  to  share  their  dinner 
of  roast-meat;  and,  after  much  of  what  the  minister  called 
unprofitable  discourse,  she  was  quitting  the  house  when  she 
hastened  back  with  an  astonished  face,  to  tell  Mr.  Lyon  and 
Esther,  who  were  already  in  wonder  at  crashing,  thundering 


374  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

sounds  on  the  pavement,  that  there  was  a  carriage  stopping 
and  stamping  at  the  entry  into  Malthouse  Yard,  with  "all 
sorts  of  fine  liveries,"  and  a  lady  and  gentleman  inside.  Mr. 
Lyon  and  Esther  looked  at  each  other,  both  having  the  same 
name  in  their  minds. 

"  If  it 's  Mr.  Transome  or  somebody  else  as  is  great,  Mr. 
Lyon,"  urged  Mrs.  Holt,  "you'll  remember  my  son,  and  say 
he 's  got  a  mother  with  a  character  they  may  inquire  into  as 
much  as  they  like.  And  never  mind  what  Felix  says,  for  he 's 
so  masterful  he  'd  stay  in  prison  and  be  transported  whether 
or  no,  only  to  have  his  own  way.  For  it 's  not  to  be  thought 
but  what  the  great  people  could  get  him  off  if  they  would ; 
and  it's  very  hard  with  a  King  in  the  country  and  all  the 
texts  in  Proverbs  about  the  King's  countenance,  and  Solomon 
and  the  live  baby  —  " 

Mr.  Lyon  lifted  up  his  hand  deprecatingly,  and  Mrs.  Holt 
retreated  from  the  parlor-door  to  a  corner  of  the  kitchen,  the 
outer  doorway  being  occupied  by  Dominic,  who  was  inquiring 
if  Mr.  and  Miss  Lyon  were  at  home,  and  could  receive  Mrs. 
Transome  and  Mr.  Harold  Transonic.  While  Dominic  went 
back  to  the  carriage  Mrs.  Holt  escaped  with  her  tiny  com- 
panion to  Zachary's,  the  pew-opener,  observing  to  Lyddy  that 
she  knew  herself,  and  was  not  that  woman  to  stay  where  she 
might  not  be  wanted  ;  whereupon  Lyddy,  differing  fundamen- 
tally, admonished  her  parting  ear  that  it  was  well  if  she  knew 
herself  to  be  dust  and  ashes  —  silently  extending  the  applica- 
tion of  this  remark  to  Mrs.  Transome  as  she  saw  the  tall  lady 
sweep  in  arrayed  in  her  rich  black  and  fur,  with  that  fine 
gentleman  behind  her  whose  thick  topknot  of  wavy  hair, 
sparkling  ring,  dark  complexion,  and  general  air  of  worldly 
exaltation  unconnected  with  chapel,  were  painfully  suggestive 
to  Lyddy  of  Herod,  Pontius  Pilate,  or  the  much-quoted 
Gallic. 

Harold  Transome,  greeting  Esther  gracefully,  presented  his 
mother,  whose  eagle-like  glance,  fixed  on  her  from  the  first 
moment  of  entering,  seemed  to  Esther  to  pierce  her  through. 
Mrs.  Transome  hardly  noticed  Mr.  Lyon,  not  from  studied 
haughtiness,  but  from  sheer  mental  inability  to  consider  him 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  375 

—  as  a  person  ignorant  of  natural  history  is  unable  to  consider 
a  fresh-water  polype  otherwise  than  as  a  sort  of  animated 
weed,  certainly  not  fit  for  table.  But  Harold  saw  that  his 
mother  was  agreeably  struck  by  Esther,  who  indeed  showed 
to  much  advantage.  She  was  not  at  all  taken  by  surprise, 
and  maintained  a  dignified  quietude  ;  but  her  previous  knowl- 
edge and  reflection  about  the  possible  dispossession  of  these 
Tran  somes  gave  her  a  softened  feeling  towards  them  which 
tinged  her  manners  very  agreeably. 

Harold  was  carefully  polite  to  the  minister,  throwing  out  a 
word  to  make  him  understand  that  he  had  an  important  part 
in  the  important  business  which  had  brought  this  unannounced 
visit ;  and  the  four  made  a  group  seated  not  far  off  each  other 
near  the  window,  Mrs.  Transome  and  Esther  being  on  the 
sofa. 

"  You  must  be  astonished  at  a  visit  from  me,  Miss  Lyon," 
Mrs.  Transome  began ;  "  I  seldom  come  to  Treby  Magna. 
Now  I  see  you,  the  visit  is  an  unexpected  pleasure ;  but  the 
cause  of  my  coming  is  business  of  a  serious  nature,  which  my 
son  will  communicate  to  you." 

"  I  ought  to  begin  by  saying  that  what  I  have  to  announce 
to  you  is  the  reverse  of  disagreeable,  Miss  Lyon,"  said  Harold, 
with  lively  ease.  "  I  don't  suppose  the  world  would  consider 
it  very  good  news  for  me ;  but  a  rejected  candidate,  Mr.  Lyon," 
Harold  went  on,  turning  graciously  to  the  minister,  "  begins 
to  be  inured  to  loss  and  misfortune." 

"Truly,  sir,"  said  Mr.  Lyon,  with  a  rather  sad  solemnity, 
"your  allusion  hath  a  grievous  bearing  for  me,  but  I  will  not 
retard  your  present  purpose  by  further  remark." 

"  You  will  never  guess  what  I  have  to  disclose,"  said  Har- 
old, again  looking  at  Esther,  "  unless,  indeed,  you  have  had 
some  previous  intimation  of  it." 

"  Does  it  refer  to  law  and  inheritance  ?  "  said  Esther,  with 
a  smile.  She  was  already  brightened  by  Harold's  manner. 
The  news  seemed  to  be  losing  its  dullness,  and  to  be  something 
really  belonging  to  warm,  comfortable,  interesting  life. 

"  Then  you  have  already  heard  of  it  ? "  said  Harold,  in- 
wardly vexed,  but  sufficiently  prepared  not  to  seem  so. 


376  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL. 

"  Only  yesterday,"  said  Esther,  quite  simply.  "  I  received 
a  letter  from  some  lawyers  with  a  statement  of  many  surpris- 
ing things,  showing  that  I  was  an  heiress  "  —  here  she  turned 
very  prettily  to  address  Mrs.  Transome  —  "  which,  as  you  may 
imagine,  is  one  of  the  last  things  I  could  have  supposed  myself 
to  be." 

"My  dear,"  said  Mrs.  Transome  with  elderly  grace,  just 
laying  her  hand  for  an  instant  on  Esther's,  "  it  is  a  lot  that 
would  become  you  admirably." 

Esther  blushed,  and  said  playfully  — 

"  Oh,  I  know  what  to  buy  with  fifty  pounds  a-year,  but  I 
know  the  price  of  nothing  beyond  that." 

Her  father  sat  looking  at  her  through  his  spectacles,  strok- 
ing his  chin.  It  was  amazing  to  herself  that  she  was  tak- 
ing so  lightly  now  what  had  caused  her  such  deep  emotion 
yesterday. 

"  I  dare  say,  then,"  said  Harold,  "  you  are  more  fully  pos- 
sessed of  particulars  than  I  am.  So  that  my  mother  and  I 
need  only  tell  you  what  no  one  else  can  tell  you  —  that  is, 
what  are  her  and  my  feelings  and  wishes  under  these  new  and 
unexpected  circumstances." 

"  I  am  most  anxious,"  said  Esther,  with  a  grave  beautiful 
look  of  respect  to  Mrs.  Transome  —  "  most  anxious  on  that 
point.  Indeed,  being  of  course  in  xmcertainty  about  it,  I  have 
not  yet  known  whether  I  could  rejoice."  Mrs.  Transome's 
glance  had  softened.  She  liked  Esther  to  look  at  her. 

"  Our  chief  anxiety,"  she  said,  knowing  what  Harold  wished 
her  to  say,  "  is,  that  there  may  be  no  contest,  no  useless  ex- 
penditure of  money.  Of  course  we  will  surrender  what  can 
be  rightfully  claimed." 

"  My  mother  expresses  our  feeling  precisely,  Miss  Lyon," 
said  Harold.  "  And  I  'in  sure,  Mr.  Lyon,  you  will  understand 
our  desire." 

"  Assuredly,  sir.  My  daughter  would  in  any  case  have  had 
my  advice  to  seek  a  conclusion  which  would  involve  no  strife. 
We  endeavor,  sir,  in  our  body,  to  hold  to  the  apostolic  rule  that 
one  Christian  brother  should  not  go  to  law  with  another ;  and 
I,  for  my  part,  would  extend  this  rule  to  all  my  fellow-men, 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  377 

apprehending  that  the  practice  of  our  courts  is  little  consistent 
with  the  simplicity  that  is  in  Christ." 

"If  it  is  to  depend  on  my  will,"  said  Esther,  "there  is 
nothing  that  would  be  more  repugnant  to  me  than  any 
struggle  on  such  a  subject.  But  can't  the  lawyers  go  on 
doing  what  they  will  in  spite  of  me  ?  It  seems  that  this  is 
what  they  mean." 

"  Not  exactly,"  said  Harold,  smiling.  "  Of  course  they  live 
by  such  struggles  as  you  dislike.  But  we  can  thwart  them  by 
determining  not  to  quarrel.  It  is  desirable  that  we  should 
consider  the  affair  together,  and  put  it  into  the  hands  of  honor- 
able solicitors.  I  assure  you  we  Transomes  will  not  contend 
for  what  is  not  our  own." 

"  And  this  is  what  I  have  come  to  beg  of  you,"  said  Mrs. 
Transome.  "  It  is  that  you  will  come  to  Transoine  Court  —  and 
let  us  take  full  time  to  arrange  matters.  Do  oblige  me :  you 
shall  not  be  teased  more  than  you  like  by  an  old  woman  :  you 
shall  do  just  as  you  please,  and  become  acquainted  with  your 
future  home,  since  it  is  to  be  yours.  I  can  tell  you  a  world  of 
things  that  you  will  want  to  know  ;  and  the  business  can  pro- 
ceed properly." 

"  Do  consent,"  said  Harold,  with  winning  brevity. 

Esther  was  flushed,  and  her  eyes  were  bright.  It  was  im- 
possible for  her  not  to  feel  that  the  proposal  was  a  more  tempt- 
ing step  towards  her  change  of  condition  than  she  could  have 
thought  of  beforehand.  She  had  forgotten  that  she  was  in 
any  trouble.  But  she  looked  towards  her  father,  who  was 
again  stroking  his  chin,  as  was  his  habit  when  he  was  doubt- 
ing and  deliberating. 

"  I  hope  you  do  not  disapprove  of  Miss  Lyon's  granting  us 
this  favor  ?  "  said  Harold  to  the  minister. 

"  I  have  nothing  to  oppose  to  it,  sir,  if  my  daughter's  own 
mind  is  clear  as  to  her  course." 

"  You  will  come  —  now  —  with  us,"  said  Mrs.  Transome, 
persuasively.  "  You  will  go  back  with  us  in  the  carriage." 

Harold  was  highly  gratified  with  the  perfection  of  his 
mother's  manner  on  this  occasion,  which  he  had  looked  for- 
ward to  as  difficult.  Since  he  had  come  home  again,  he  had 


378  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

never  seen  her  so  much  at  her  ease,  or  with  so  much  benig- 
nancy  in  her  face.  The  secret  lay  in  the  charm  of  Esther's 
sweet  young  deference,  a  sort  of  charm  that  had  not  before 
entered  into  Mrs.  Transome's  elderly  life.  Esther's  pretty 
behavior,  it  must  be  confessed,  was  not  fed  entirely  from  lofty 
moral  sources :  over  and  above  her  really  generous  feeling,  she 
enjoyed  Mrs.  Transome's  accent,  the  high-bred  quietness  of  her 
speech,  the  delicate  odor  of  her  drapery.  She  had  always 
thought  that  life  must  be  particularly  easy  if  one  could  pass  it 
among  refined  people  ;  and  so  it  seemed  at  this  moment.  She 
wished,  unmixedly,  to  go  to  Transome  Court. 

"Since  my  father  has  no  objection,"  she  said,  "and  you 
urge  me  so  kindly.  But  I  must  beg  for  time  to  pack  up  a  few 
clothes." 

"  By  all  means,"  said  Mrs.  Transome.  "  We  are  not  at  all 
pressed." 

When  Esther  had  left  the  room,  Harold  said,  "Apart  from 
our  immediate  reason  for  coming,  Mr.  Lyon,  I  could  have 
wished  to  see  you  about  these  unhappy  consequences  of  the 
election  contest.  But  you  will  understand  that  I  have  been 
much  preoccupied  with  private  affairs." 

"  You  have  well  said  that  the  consequences  are  unhappy, 
sir.  And  but  for  a  reliance  on  something  more  than  human 
calculation,  I  know  not  which  I  should  most  bewail  —  the 
scandal  which  wrong-dealing  has  brought  on  right  principles, 
or  the  snares  which  it  laid  for  the  feet  of  a  young  man  who  is 
dear  to  me.  '  One  soweth,  and  another  reapeth,'  is  a  verity 
that  applies  to  evil  as  well  as  good." 

"You  are  referring  to  Felix  Holt.  I  have  not  neglected 
steps  to  secure  the  best  legal  help  for  the  prisoners  ;  but  I  am 
given  to  understand  that  Holt  refuses  any  aid  from  me.  I 
hope  he  will  not  go  rashly  to  work  in  speaking  in  his  own  de- 
fence without  any  legal  instruction.  It  is  an  opprobrium  of 
our  law  that  no  counsel  is  allowed  to  plead  for  the  prisoner  in 
cases  of  felony.  A  ready  tongue  may  do  a  man  as  much  harm 
as  good  in  a  court  of  justice.  He  piques  himself  on  making  a 
display,  and  displays  a  little  too  much." 

"Sir,  you  know  him  not,"  said  the  little  minister,  in  his 


FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL.  379 

deeper  tone.  "  He  would  not  accept,  even  if  it  were  accorded, 
a  defence  wherein  the  truth  was  screened  or  avoided,  —  not 
from  a  vainglorious  spirit  of  self-exhibition,  for  he  hath  a  sin- 
gular directness  and  simplicity  of  speech ;  but  from  an  averse- 
ness  to  a  profession  wherein  a  man  may  without  shame  seek 
to  justify  the  wicked  for  reward,  and  take  away  the  righteous- 
ness of  the  righteous  from  him." 

"  It 's  a  pity  a  fine  young  fellow  should  do  himself  harm  by 
fanatical  notions  of  that  sort.  I  could  at  least  have  procured 
the  advantage  of  first-rate  consultation.  He  did  n't  look  to 
me  like  a  dreamy  personage." 

"  Nor  is  he  dreamy ;  rather,  his  excess  lies  in  being  too 
practical." 

"  Well,  I  hope  you  will  not  encourage  him  in  such  irration- 
ality :  the  question  is  not  one  of  misrepresentation,  but  of 
adjusting  fact,  so  as  to  raise  it  to  the  power  of  evidence. 
Don't  you  see  that  ?  " 

"  I  do,  I  do.  But  I  distrust  not  Felix  Holt's  discernment 
in  regard  to  his  own  case.  He  builds  not  on  doubtful  things, 
and  hath  no  illusory  hopes ;  on  the  contrary,  he  is  of  a  too- 
scornful  incredulity  where  I  would  fain  see  a  more  childlike 
faith.  But  he  will  hold  no  belief  without  action  correspond- 
ing thereto ;  and  the  occasion  of  his  return  to  this  his  native 
place  at  a  time  which  has  proved  fatal,  was  no  other  than  his 
resolve  to  hinder  the  sale  of  some  drugs,  which  had  chiefly 
supported  his  mother,  but  which  his  better  knowledge  showed 
him  to  be  pernicious  to  the  human  frame.  He  undertook  to 
support  her  by  his  own  labor  :  but,  sir,  I  pray  you  to  mark  — 
and  old  as  I  am,  I  will  not  deny  that  this  young  man  instructs 
me  herein  —  I  pray  you  to  mark  the  poisonous  confusion  of 
good  and  evil  which  is  the  wide-spreading  effect  of  vicious 
practices.  Through  the  use  of  undue  electioneering  means  — 
concerning  which,  however,  T  do  not  accuse  you  farther  than 
of  having  acted  the  part  of  him  who  washes  his  hands  when 
he  delivers  up  to  others  the  exercise  of  an  iniquitous  power  — 
Felix  Holt  is,  I  will  not  scruple  to  say,  the  innocent  victim  of 
a  riot ;  and  that  deed  of  strict  honesty,  whereby  he  took  on 
himself  the  charge  of  his  aged  mother,  seems  now  to  have 


880  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

deprived  her  of  sufficient  bread,  and  is  even  an  occasion  of 
reproach  to  him  from  the  weaker  brethren." 

"I  shall  be  proud  to  supply  her  as  amply  as  you  think 
desirable,"  said  Harold,  not  enjoying  this  lecture. 

"  I  will  pray  you  to  speak  of  this  question  with  my  daughter, 
who,  it  appears,  may  herself  have  large  means  at  command, 
and  would  desire  to  minister  to  Mrs.  Holt's  needs  with  all 
friendship  and  delicacy.  For  the  present,  I  can  take  care  that 
she  lacks  nothing  essential." 

As  Mr.  Lyon  was  speaking,  Esther  re-entered,  equipped  for 
her  drive.  She  laid  her  hand  on  her  father's  arm,  and  said, 
"  You  will  let  my  pupils  know  at  once,  will  you,  father  ?  " 

"  Doubtless,  my  dear,"  said  the  old  man,  trembling  a  little 
under  the  feeling  that  this  departure  of  Esther's  was  a  crisis. 
Nothing  again  would  be  as  it  had  been  in  their  mutual  life. 
But  he  feared  that  he  was  being  mastered  by  a  too  tender  self- 
regard,  and  struggled  to  keep  himself  calm. 

Mrs.  Transome  and  Harold  had  both  risen. 

"  If  you  are  quite  ready,  Miss  Lyon,"  said  Harold,  divining 
that  the  father  and  daughter  would  like  to  have  an  unobserved 
moment,  "I  will  take  my  mother  to  the  carriage,  and  come 
back  for  you." 

When  they  were  alone,  Esther  put  her  hands  on  her  father's 
shoulders  and  kissed  him. 

"  This  will  not  be  a  grief  to  you,  I  hope,  father  ?  You  think 
it  is  better  that  I  should  go  ?  " 

"  Nay,  child,  I  am  weak.  But  I  would  fain  be  capable  of  a 
joy  quite  apart  from  the  accidents  of  my  aged  earthly  exist- 
ence, which,  indeed,  is  a  petty  and  almost  dried-up  fountain  — 
whereas  to  the  receptive  soul  the  river  of  life  pauseth  not,  nor 
is  diminished." 

"  Perhaps  you  will  see  Felix  Holt  again  and  tell  him  every- 
thing ?  " 

"  Shall  I  say  aught  to  him  for  you  ?  " 

"  Oh  no ;  only  that  Job  Tudge  has  a  little  flannel  shirt  and 
a  box  of  lozenges,"  said  Esther,  smiling.  "Ah,  I  hear  Mr. 
Transome  coming  back.  I  must  say  good-by  to  Lyddy,  else 
she  will  cry  over  my  hard  heart." 


FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL.  381 

In  spite  of  all  the  grave  thoughts  that  had  been,  Esther  felt 
it  a  very  pleasant  as  well  as  new  experience  to  be  led  to  the 
carriage  by  Harold  Transome,  to  be  seated  on  soft  cushions, 
and  bowled  along,  looked  at  admiringly  and  deferentially  by  a 
person  opposite,  whom  it  was  agreeable  to  look  at  in  return, 
and  talked  to  with  suavity  and  liveliness.  Towards  what 
prospect  was  that  easy  carriage  really  leading  her  ?  She 
could  not  be  always  asking  herself  Mentor-like  questions. 
Her  young  bright  nature  was  rather  weary  of  the  sadness 
that  had  grown  heavier  in  these  last  weeks,  like  a  chill  white 
mist  hopelessly  veiling  the  day.  Her  fortune  was  beginning 
to  appear  worthy  of  being  called  good  fortune.  She  had  come 
to  a  new  stage  in  her  journey ;  a  new  day  had  arisen  on  new- 
scenes,  and  her  young  untired  spirit  was  full  of  curiosity. 


CHAPTEK  XXXIX. 

No  man  believes  that  many-textured  knowledge  and  skill  —  as  a  just  idea 
of  the  solar  system,  or  the  power  of  painting  flesh,  or  of  reading  written 
harmonies  —  can  come  late  and  of  a  sudden ;  yet  many  will  not  stick  at 
believing  that  happiness  can  come  at  any  day  and  hour  solely  by  a  new 
disposition  of  events;  though  there  is  nought  least  capable  of  a  magical 
production  than  a  mortal's  happiness,  which  is  mainly  a  complex  of  habitual 
relations  and  dispositions  not  to  be  wrought  by  news  from  foreign  parts,  or  any 
whirling  of  fortune's  wheel  for  one  on  whose  brow  Time  has  written  legibly. 

SOME  days  after  Esther's  arrival  at  Transome  Court,  Denner, 
coming  to  dress  Mrs.  Transome  before  dinner  —  a  labor  of  love 
for  which  she  had  ample  leisure  now  —  found  her  mistress 
seated  with  more  than  ever  of  that  marble  aspect  of  self- 
absorbed  suffering,  which  to  the  waiting-woman's  keen  ob- 
servation had  been  gradually  intensifying  itself  during  the 
past  week.  She  had  tapped  at  the  door  without  having  been 
summoned,  and  she  had  ventured  to  enter  though  she  had  heard 
no  voice  saying  "  Come  in." 


382  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

Mrs.  Transome  had  on  a  dark  warm  dressing-gown,  hang- 
ing in  thick  folds  about  her,  and  she  was  seated  before  a 
mirror  which  filled  a  panel  from  the  floor  to  the  ceiling.  The 
room  was  bright  with  the  light  of  the  fire  and  of  wax  candles. 
For  some  reason,  contrary  to  her  usual  practice,  Mrs.  Transome 
had  herself  unfastened  her  abundant  gray  hair,  which  rolled 
backward  in  a  pale  sunless  stream  over  her  dark  dress.  She 
was  seated  before  the  mirror  apparently  looking  at  herself, 
her  brow  knit  in  one  deep  furrow,  and  her  jewelled  hands  laid 
one  above  the  other  on  her  knee.  Probably  she  had  ceased  to 
see  the  reflection  in  the  mirror,  for  her  eyes  had  the  fixed 
wide-open  look  that  belongs  not  to  examination,  but  to  reverie. 
Motionless  in  that  way,  her  clear-cut  features  keeping  dis- 
tinct record  of  past  beauty,  she  looked  like  an  image  faded, 
dried,  and  bleached  by  uncounted  suns,  rather  than  a  breath- 
ing woman  who  had  numbered  the  years  as  they  passed,  and 
had  a  consciousness  within  her  which  was  the  slow  deposit  of 
those  ceaseless  rolling  years. 

Denner,  with  all  her  ingrained  and  systematic  reserve,  could 
not  help  showing  signs  that  she  was  startled,  when,  peering 
from  between  her  half-closed  eyelids,  she  saw  the  motionless 
image  in  the  mirror  opposite  to  her  as  she  entered.  Her  gentle 
opening  of  the  door  had  not  roused  her  mistress,  to  whom  the 
sensations  produced  by  Denner' s  presence  were  as  little  disturb- 
ing as  those  of  a  favorite  cat.  But  the  slight  cry,  and  the  start 
reflected  in  the  glass,  were  unusual  enough  to  break  the  reverie : 
Mrs.  Transome  moved,  leaned  back  in  her  chair,  and  said  — 

"  So  you  're  come  at  last,  Denner  ?  " 

"  Yes,  madam ;  it  is  not  late.  I  'm  sorry  you  should  have 
undone  your  hair  yourself." 

"  I  undid  it  to  see  what  an  old  hag  I  am.  These  fine  clothes 
you  put  on  me,  Denner,  are  only  a  smart  shroud." 

"  Pray  don't  talk  so,  madam.  If  there 's  anybody  does  n't 
think  it  pleasant  to  look  at  you,  so  much  the  worse  for  them. 
For  my  part,  I've  seen  no  young  ones  fit  to  hold  up  your 
train.  Look  at  your  likeness  down  below ;  and  though  you  're 
older  now,  what  signifies  ?  I  would  n't  be  Letty  in  the  scul- 
lery because  she 's  got  red  cheeks.  She  may  n't  know  she  's  a 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  383 

poor  creature,  but  I  know  it,  and  that 's  enough  for  me :  I 
know  what  sort  of  a  dowdy  draggletail  she  '11  be  in  ten  years' 
time.  I  would  change  with  nobody,  madam.  And  if  troubles 
were  put  up  to  market,  I  'd  sooner  buy  old  than  new.  It 's 
something  to  have  seen  the  worst." 

"  A  woman  never  has  seen  the  worst  till  she  is  old,  Denner," 
said  Mrs.  Transome,  bitterly. 

The  keen  little  waiting-woman  was  not  clear  as  to  the  cause 
of  her  mistress's  added  bitterness ;  but  she  rarely  brought  her- 
self to  ask  questions,  when  Mrs.  Transome  did  not  authorize 
them  by  beginning  to  give  her  information.  Banks  the  bailiff 
and  the  head-servant  had  nodded  and  winked  a  good  deal  over 
the  certainty  that  Mr.  Harold  was  "  none  so  fond  "  of  Jerrnyn, 
but  this  was  a  subject  on  which  Mrs.  Transome  had  never 
made  up  her  mind  to  speak,  and  Denner  knew  nothing  defi- 
nite. Again,  she  felt  quite  sure  that  there  was  some  impor- 
tant secret  connected  with  Esther's  presence  in  the  house  ;  she 
suspected  that  the  close  Dominic  knew  the  secret,  and  was 
more  trusted  than  she  was,  in  spite  of  her  forty  years'  service ; 
but  any  resentment  on  this  ground  would  have  been  an  enter- 
tained reproach  against  her  mistress,  inconsistent  with  Den- 
ner's  creed  and  character.  She  inclined  to  the  belief  that 
Esther  was  the  immediate  cause  of  the  new  discontent. 

"  If  there  's  anything  worse  coming  to  you,  I  should  like  to 
know  what  it  is,  madam,"  she  said,  after  a  moment's  silence, 
speaking  always  in  the  same  low  quick  way,  and  keeping  up 
her  quiet  labors.  "  When  I  awake  at  cock-crow,  I  'd  sooner 
have  one  real  grief  on  my  mind  than  twenty  false.  It 's  better 
to  know  one  's  robbed  than  to  think  one  's  going  to  be 
murdered." 

"  I  believe  you  are  the  creature  in  the  world  that  loves  me 
best,  Denner ;  yet  you  will  never  understand  what  I  suffer. 
It 's  of  no  use  telling  you.  There 's  no  folly  in  you,  and  no 
heartache.  You  are  made  of  iron.  You  have  never  had  any 
trouble." 

"  I  've  had  some  of  your  trouble,  madam." 

"Yes,  you  good  thing.  But  as  a  sick-nurse,  that  never 
caught  the  fever.  You  never  even  had  a  child." 


384  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

"  I  can  feel  for  things  I  never  went  through.  I  used  to  be 
sorry  for  the  poor  French  Queen  when  I  was  young :  I  'd  have 
lain  cold  for  her  to  lie  warm.  I  know  people  have  feelings 
according  to  their  birth  and  station.  And  you  always  took 
things  to  heart,  madam,  beyond  anybody  else.  But  I  hope 
there  's  nothing  new,  to  make  you  talk  of  the  worst." 

"Yes,  Denner,  there  is  —  there  is,"  said  Mrs.  Transome, 
speaking  in  a  low  tone  of  misery,  while  she  bent  for  her  head- 
dress to  be  pinned  on. 

"  Is  it  this  young  lady  ?  " 

"  Why,  what  do  you  think  about  her,  Denner  ?  "  said  Mrs. 
Transome,  in  a  tone  of  more  spirit,  rather  curious  to  hear  what 
the  old  woman  would  say. 

"  I  don't  deny  she 's  graceful,  and  she  has  a  pretty  smile 
and  very  good  manners  :  it 's  quite  unaccountable  by  what 
Banks  says  about  her  father.  I  know  nothing  of  those  Treby 
townsfolk  myself,  but  for  my  part  I  'm  puzzled.  I  'm  fond  of 
Mr.  Harold.  I  always  shall  be,  madam.  I  was  at  his  bringing 
into  the  world,  and  nothing  but  his  doing  wrong  by  you  would 
turn  me  against  him.  But  the  servants  all  say  he  's  in  love 
with  Miss  Lyon." 

"  I  wish  it  were  true,  Denner,"  said  Mrs.  Transome,  ener- 
getically. "  I  wish  he  were  in  love  with  her,  so  that  she  could 
master  him,  and  make  him  do  what  she  pleased." 

"  Then  it  is  not  true  —  what  they  say  ?  " 

"  Not  true  that  she  will  ever  master  him.  No  woman  ever 
will.  He  will  make  her  fond  of  him,  and  afraid  of  him. 
That 's  one  of  the  things  you  have  never  gone  through,  Den- 
ner. A  woman's  love  is  always  freezing  into  fear.  She  wants 
everything,  she  is  secure  of  nothing.  This  girl  has  a  fine 
spirit  —  plenty  of  fire  and  pride  and  wit.  Men  like  such  cap- 
tives, as  they  like  horses  that  champ  the  bit  and  paw  the 
ground :  they  feel  more  triumph  in  their  mastery.  What  is 
the  use  of  a  woman's  will  ?  —  if  she  tries,  she  does  n't  get  it, 
and  she  ceases  to  be  loved.  God  was  cruel  when  he  made 
women." 

Denner  was  used  to  such  outbursts  as  this.  Her  mistress's 
rhetoric  and  temper  belonged  to  her  superior  rank,  her  grand 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  385 

person,  and  her  piercing  black  eyes.  Mrs.  Transome  had  a 
sense  of  impiety  in  her  words  which  made  them  all  the  more 
tempting  to  her  impotent  anger.  The  waiting-woman  had 
none  of  that  awe  which  could  be  turned  into  defiance :  the 
Sacred  Grove  was  a  common  thicket  to  her. 

"  It  may  n't  be  good-luck  to  be  a  woman,"  she  said.  "  But 
one  begins  with  it  from  a  baby :  one  gets  used  to  it.  And  I 
shouldn't  like  to  be  a  man  —  to  cough  so  loud,  and  stand 
straddling  about  on  a  wet  day,  and  be  so  wasteful  with  meat 
and  drink.  They  're  a  coarse  lot,  I  think.  Then  I  need  n't 
make  a  trouble  of  this  young  lady,  madam,"  she  added,  after 
a  moment's  pause. 

"  No,  Denner.  I  like  her.  If  that  were  all  —  I  should  like 
Harold  to  marry  her.  It  would  be  the  best  thing.  If  the 
truth  were  known  —  and  it  will  be  known  soon  —  the  estate  is 
hers  by  law  —  such  law  as  it  is.  It 's  a  strange  story :  she  's 
a  Bycliffe  really." 

Denner  did  not  look  amazed,  but  went  on  fastening  her  mis- 
tress's dress,  as  she  said  — 

"  Well,  madam,  I  was  sure  there  was  something  wonderful 
at  the  bottom  of  it.  And  turning  the  old  lawsuits  and  every- 
thing else  over  in  my  mind,  I  thought  the  law  might  have 
something  to  do  with  it.  Then  she  is  a  born  lady  ?  " 

"  Yes  ;  she  has  good  blood  in  her  veins." 

"  We  talked  that  over  in  the  housekeeper's  room  —  what  a 
hand  and  an  instep  she  has,  and  how  her  head  is  set  on  her 
shoulders  —  almost  like  your  own,  madam.  But  her  lightish 
complexion  spoils  her,  to  my  thinking.  And  Dominic  said 
Mr.  Harold  never  admired  that  sort  of  woman  before.  There 's 
nothing  that  smooth  fellow  could  n't  tell  you  if  he  would :  he 
knows  the  answers  to  riddles  before  they  're  made.  However, 
he  knows  how  to  hold  his  tongue ;  I  '11  say  that  for  him.  And 
so  do  I,  madam." 

"  Yes,  yes  ;  you  will  not  talk  of  it  till  other  people  are  talk- 
ing of  it." 

"  And  so,  if  Mr.  Harold  married  her,  it  would  save  all  fuss 
and  mischief  ?  " 

"  Yes  —  about  the  estate." 


386  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL. 

"  And  lie  seems  inclined ;  and  she  '11  not  refuse  him,  I  '11 
answer  for  it.  And  you  like  her,  madam.  There 's  everything 
to  set  your  mind  at  rest." 

Denner  was  putting  the  finishing-touch  to  Mrs.  Transome's 
dress  by  throwing  an  Indian  scarf  over  her  shoulders,  and  so 
completing  the  contrast  between  the  majestic  lady  in  costume 
and  the  dishevelled  Hecuba-like  woman  whom  she  had  found 
half  an  hour  before. 

"  I  am  not  at  rest !  "  Mrs.  Transome  said,  with  slow  distinct- 
ness, moving  from  the  mirror  to  the  window,  where  the  blind 
was  not  drawn  down,  and  she  could  see  the  chill  white  land- 
scape and  the  far-off  unheeding  stars. 

Denner,  more  distressed  by  her  mistress's  suffering  than  she 
could  have  been  by  anything  else,  took  up  with  the  instinct  of 
affection  a  gold  vinaigrette  which  Mrs.  Transome  often  liked 
to  carry  with  her,  and  going  up  to  her  put  it  into  her  hand 
gently.  Mrs.  Transome  grasped  the  little  woman's  hand  hard, 
and  held  it  so. 

"  Denner,"  she  said,  in  a  low  tone,  "  if  I  could  choose  at 
this  moment,  I  would  choose  that  Harold  should  never  have 
been  born." 

"  Nay,  my  dear  "  (Denner  had  only  once  before  in  her  life 
said  "  my  dear  "  to  her  mistress),  "  it  was  a  happiness  to  you 
then." 

"  I  don't  believe  I  felt  the  happiness  then  as  I  feel  the 
misery  now.  It  is  foolish  to  say  people  can't  feel  much  when 
they  are  getting  old.  Not  pleasure,  perhaps  —  little  comes. 
But  they  can  feel  they  are  forsaken  —  why,  every  fibre  in  me 
seems  to  be  a  memory  that  makes  a  pang.  They  can  feel  that 
all  the  love  in  their  lives  is  turned  to  hatred  or  contempt." 

"Not  mine,  madam,  not  mine.  Let  what  would  be,  I  should 
want  to  live  for  your  sake,  for  fear  you  should  have  nobody  to 
do  for  you  as  I  would." 

"  Ah,  then,  you  are  a  happy  woman,  Denner ;  you  have 
loved  somebody  for  forty  years  who  is  old  and  weak  now,  and 
can't  do  without  you." 

The  sound  of  the  dinner-gong  resounded  below,  and  Mrs. 
Transome  let  the  faithful  hand  fall  again. 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  387 


CHAPTER  XL. 

She  'a  beautiful ;  and  therefore  to  be  wooed : 
She  is  a  woman ;  therefore  to  be  won. 

Henry  VI. 

IF  Denner  had  had  a  suspicion  that  Esther's  presence  at 
Transome  Court  was  not  agreeable  to  her  mistress,  it  was  im- 
possible to  entertain  such  a  suspicion  with  regard  to  the  other 
members  of  the  family.  Between  her  and  little  Harry  there 
was  an  extraordinary  fascination.  This  creature,  with  the 
soft  broad  brown  cheeks,  low  forehead,  great  black  eyes,  tiny 
well-defined  nose,  fierce  biting  tricks  towards  every  person  and 
thing  he  disliked,  and  insistance  on  entirely  occupying  those 
he  liked,  was  a  human  specimen  such  as  Esther  had  never  seen 
before,  and  she  seemed  to  be  equally  original  in  Harry's  ex- 
perience. At  first  sight  her  light  complexion  and  her  blue 
gown,  probably  also  her  sunny  smile  and  her  hands  stretched 
out  towards  him,  seemed  to  make  a  show  for  him  as  of  a  new 
sort  of  bird  :  he  threw  himself  backward  against  his  "  Gappa," 
as  he  called  old  Mr.  Transome,  and  stared  at  this  new-comer 
with  the  gravity  of  a  wild  animal.  But  she  had  no  sooner  sat 
down  on  the  sofa  in  the  library  than  he  climbed  up  to  her,  and 
began  to  treat  her  as  an  attractive  object  in  natural  history, 
snatched  up  her  ciirls  with  his  brown  fist,  and,  discovering 
that  there  was  a  little  ear  under  them,  pinched  it  and  blew 
into  it,  pulled  at  her  coronet  of  plaits,  and  seemed  to  disc6ver 
with  satisfaction  that  it  did  not  grow  at  the  summit  of  her 
head,  but  could  be  dragged  down  and  altogether  undone. 
Then  finding  that  she  laughed,  tossed  him  back,  kissed,  and 
pretended  to  bite  him  —  in  fact,  was  an  animal  that  under- 
stood fun  —  he  rushed  off  and  made  Dominic  bring  a  small 
menagerie  of  white-mice,  squirrels,  and  birds,  with  Moro,  the 
black  spaniel,  to  make  her  acquaintance.  Whomsoever  Harry 
liked,  it  followed  that  Mr.  Transome  must  like :  "  Gappa," 


388  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL. 

along  with  Nimrod  the  retriever,  was  part  of  the  menagerie, 
and  perhaps  endured  more  than  all  the  other  live  creatures  in 
the  way  of  being  tumbled  about.  Seeing  that  Esther  bore 
having  her  hair  pulled  down  quite  merrily,  and  that  she  was 
willing  to  be  harnessed  and  beaten,  the  old  man  began  to  con- 
fide to  her,  in  his  feeble,  smiling,  and  rather  jerking  fashion, 
Harry's  remarkable  feats :  how  he  had  one  day,  when  Gappa 
was  asleep,  unpinned  a  whole  drawerful  of  beetles,  to  see  if 
they  would  fly  away;  then,  disgusted  with  their  stupidity, 
was  about  to  throw  them  all  on  the  ground  and  stamp  on 
them,  when  Dominic  came  in  and  rescued  these  valuable  speci- 
mens ;  also,  how  he  had  subtly  watched  Mrs.  Transome  at  the 
cabinet  where  she  kept  her  medicines,  and,  when  she  had  left 
it  for  a  little  while  without  locking  it,  had  gone  to  the  drawers 
and  scattered  half  the  contents  on  the  floor.  But  what  old 
Mr.  Transome  thought  the  most  wonderful  proof  of  an  almost 
preternatural  cleverness  was,  that  Harry  would  hardly  ever 
talk,  but  preferred  making  inarticulate  noises,  or  combining 
syllables  after  a  method  of  his  own. 

"  He  can  talk  well  enough  if  he  likes/'  said  Gappa,  evidently 
thinking  that  Harry,  like  the  monkeys,  had  deep  reasons  for 
his  reticence. 

"  You  mind  him,"  he  added,  nodding  at  Esther,  and  shaking 
with  low-toned  laughter.  "  You  '11  hear :  he  knows  the  right 
names  of  things  well  enough,  but  he  likes  to  make  his  own. 
He'll  give  you  one  all  to  yourself  before  long." 

And  when  Harry  seemed  to  have  made  up  his  mind  dis- 
tinctly that  Esther's  name  was  "  Boo,"  Mr.  Transome  nodded 
at  her  with  triumphant  satisfaction,  and  then  told  her  in  a  low 
whisper,  looking  round  cautiously  beforehand,  that  Harry 
would  never  call  Mrs.  Transome  "  Gamma,"  but  always 
"Bite." 

"  It 's  wonderful ! "  said  he,  laughing  slyly. 

The  old  man  seemed  so  happy  now  in  the  new  world  created 
for  him  by  Dominic  and  Harry,  that  he  would  perhaps  have 
made  a  holocaust  of  his  flies  and  beetles  if  it  had  been  neces- 
sary in  order  to  keep  this  living,  lively  kindness  about  him. 
He  no  longer  confined  himself  to  the  library,  but  shuffled 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  389 

along  from  room  to  room,  staying  and  looking  on  at  what  was 
going  forward  wherever  he  did  not  find  Mrs.  Transonic  alone. 

To  Esther  the  sight  of  this  feeble-minded,  timid,  paralytic 
man,  who  had  long  abdicated  all  mastery  over  the  things  that 
were  his,  was  something  piteous.  Certainly  this  had  never 
been  part  of  the  furniture  she  had  imagined  for  the  delightful 
aristocratic  dwelling  in  her  Utopia  ;  and  the  sad  irony  of  such 
a  lot  impressed  her  the  more  because  in  her  father  she  was  ac- 
customed to  age  accompanied  with  mental  acumen  and  activity. 
Her  thoughts  went  back  in  conjecture  over  the  past  life  of  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Transome,  a  couple  so  strangely  different  from  each 
other.  She  found  it  impossible  to  arrange  their  existence  in 
the  seclusion  of  this  fine  park  and  in  this  lofty  large-roomed 
house,  where  it  seemed  quite  ridiculous  to  be  anything  so 
small  as  a  human  being,  without  finding  it  rather  dull.  Mr. 
Transome  had  always  had  his  beetles,  but  Mrs.  Transome  —  ? 
It  was  not  easy  to  conceive  that  the  husband  and  wife  had 
ever  been  very  fond  of  each  other. 

Esther  felt  at  her  ease  with  Mrs.  Transome :  she  was  grati- 
fied by  the  consciousness  —  for  on  this  point  Esther  was  very 
quick  —  that  Mrs.  Transome  admired  her,  and  looked  at  her 
with  satisfied  eyes.  But  when  they  were  together  in  the  early 
days  of  her  stay,  the  conversation  turned  chiefly  on  what  hap- 
pened in  Mrs.  Transome's  youth  —  what  she  wore  when  she 
was  presented  at  Court  —  who  were  the  most  distinguished 
and  beautiful  women  at  that  time  —  the  terrible  excitement  of 
the  French  Kevolution  —  the  emigrants  she  had  known,  and 
the  history  of  various  titled  members  of  the  Lingon  family. 
And  Esther,  from  native  delicacy,  did  not  lead  to  more  recent 
topics  of  a  personal  kind.  She  was  copiously  instructed  that 
the  Lingon  family  was  better  than  that  even  of  the  elder  Tran- 
somes,  and  was  privileged  with  an  explanation  of  the  various 
quarterings,  which  proved  that  the  Lingon  blood  had  been 
continually  enriched.  Poor  Mrs.  Transomo,  with  her  secret 
bitterness  and  dread,  still  found  a  flavor  in  this  sort  of  pride ; 
none  the  less  because  certain  deeds  of  her  own  life  had  been 
in  fatal  inconsistency  with  it.  Besides,  genealogies  entered 
into  her  stock  of  ideas,  and  her  talk  on  such  subjects  was  as 


390  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

necessary  as  the  notes  of  the  linnet  or  the  blackbird.  She  had 
no  ultimate  analysis  of  things  that  went  beyond  blood  and 
family  —  the  Herons  of  Fenshore  or  the  Badgers  of  Hillbury. 
She  had  never  seen  behind  the  canvas  with  which  her  life  was 
hung.  In  the  dim  background  there  was  the  burning  mount 
and  the  tables  of  the  law ;  in  the  foreground  there  was  Lady 
Debarry  privately  gossiping  about  her,  and  Lady  Wyvern 
finally  deciding  not  to  send  her  invitations  to  dinner.  Unlike 
that  Semiramis  who  made  laws  to  suit  her  practical  license, 
she  lived,  poor  soul,  in  the  midst  of  desecrated  sanctities,  and 
of  honors  that  looked  tarnished  in  the  light  of  monotonous  and 
weary  suns.  Glimpses  of  the  Lingon  heraldry  in  their  fresh- 
ness were  interesting  to  Esther ;  but  it  occurred  to  her  that 
when  she  had  known  about  them  a  good  while  they  would 
cease  to  be  succulent  themes  of  converse  or  meditation,  and 
Mrs.  Transome,  having  known  them  all  along,  might  have  felt 
a  vacuum  in  spite  of  them. 

Nevertheless  it  was  entertaining  at  present  to  be  seated  on 
soft  cushions  with  her  netting  before  her,  while  Mrs.  Tran- 
some went  on  with  her  embroidery,  and  told  in  that  easy 
phrase,  and  with  that  refined  high-bred  tone  and  accent  which 
she  possessed  in  perfection,  family  stories  that  to  Esther  were 
like  so  many  novelettes :  what  diamonds  were  in  the  Earl's 
family,  own  cousins  to  Mrs.  Transome  ;  how  poor  Lady  Sara's 
husband  went  off  into  jealous  madness  only  a  month  after 
their  marriage,  and  dragged  that  sweet  blue-eyed  thing  by  the 
hair ;  and  how  the  brilliant  Fanny,  having  married  a  country 
parson,  became  so  niggardly  that  she  had  gone  about  almost 
begging  for  fresh  eggs  from  the  farmers'  wives,  though  she 
had  done  very  well  with  her  six  sons,  as  there  was  a  bishop 
and  no  end  of  interest  in  the  family,  and  two  of  them  got  ap- 
pointments in  India. 

At  present  Mrs.  Transome  did  not  touch  at  all  on  her  own 
time  of  privation,  or  her  troubles  with  her  eldest  son,  or  on 
anything  that  lay  very  close  to  her  heart.  She  conversed 
with  Esther,  and  acted  the  part  of  hostess  as  she  performed 
her  toilet  and  went  on  with  her  embroidery:  these  things 
were  to  be  done  whether  one  were  happy  or  miserable.  Even 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  391 

the  patriarch  Job,  if  he  had  been  a  gentleman  of  the  modern 
West,  would  have  avoided  picturesque  disorder  and  poetical 
laments  ;  and  the  friends  who  called  on  him,  though  not  less 
disposed  than  Bildad  the  Shuhite  to  hint  that  their  unfortu- 
nate friend  was  in  the  wrong,  would  have  sat  on  chairs  and 
held  their  hats  in  their  hands.  The  harder  problems  of  our 
life  have  changed  less  than  our  manners  ;  we  wrestle  with  the 
old  sorrows,  but  more  decorously.  Esther's  inexperience  pre- 
vented her  from  divining  much  about  this  fine  gray-haired 
woman,  whom  she  could  not  help  perceiving  to  stand  apart 
from  the  family  group,  as  if  there  were  some  cause  of  isolation 
for  her  both  within  and  without.  To  her  young  heart  there 
was  a  peculiar  interest  in  Mrs.  Transome.  An  elderly  woman, 
whose  beauty,  position,  and  graceful  kindness  towards  herself, 
made  deference  to  her  spontaneous,  was  a  new  figure  in  Esther's 
experience.  Her  quick  light  movement  was  always  ready  to 
anticipate  what  Mrs.  Transome  wanted ;  her  bright  apprehen- 
sion and  silvery  speech  were  always  ready  to  cap  Mrs.  Tran- 
some's  narratives  or  instructions  even  about  doses  and  liniments, 
with  some  lively  commentary.  She  must  have  behaved  charm- 
ingly ;  for  one  day  when  she  had  tripped  across  the  room  to 
put  the  screen  just  in  the  right  place,  Mrs.  Transome  said, 
taking  her  hand,  "My  dear,  you  make  me  wish  I  had  a 
daughter  !  " 

That  was  pleasant;  and  so  it  was  to  be  decked  by  Mrs. 
Transome's  own  hands  in  a  set  of  turquoise  ornaments,  which 
became  her  wonderfully,  worn  with  a  white  Cashmere  dress, 
which  was  also  insisted  on.  Esther  never  reflected  that  there 
was  a  double  intention  in  these  pretty  ways  towards  her ;  with 
young  generosity,  she  was  rather  preoccupied  by  the  desire  to 
prove  that  she  herself  entertained  no  low  triumph  in  the  fact 
that  she  had  rights  prejudicial  to  this  family  whose  life  she 
was  learning.  And  besides,  through  all  Mrs.  Transome's  per- 
fect manners  there  pierced  some  undefinable  indications  of  a 
hidden  anxiety  much  deeper  than  anything  she  could  feel 
about  this  affair  of  the  estate  —  to  which  she  often  alluded 
slightly  as  a  reason  for  informing  Esther  of  something.  It 
was  impossible  to  mistake  her  for  a  happy  woman  ;  and  young 


392  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  EADICAL. 

speculation  is  always  stirred  by  discontent  for  which  there  is 
no  obvious  cause.  When  we  are  older,  we  take  the  uneasy  eyes 
and  the  bitter  lips  more  as  a  matter  of  course. 

But  Harold  Transome  was  more  communicative  about  recent 
years  than  his  mother  was.  He  thought  it  well  that  Esther 
should  know  how  the  fortune  of  his  family  had  been  drained  by 
law  expenses,  owing  to  suits  mistakenly  urged  by  her  family ;  he 
spoke  of  his  mother's  lonely  life  and  pinched  circumstances,  of 
her  lack  of  comfort  in  her  eldest  son,  and  of  the  habit  she  had 
consequently  acquired  of  looking  at  the  gloomy  side  of  things. 
He  hinted  that  she  had  been  accustomed  to  dictate,  and  that, 
as  he  had  left  her  when  he  was  a  boy,  she  had  perhaps  in- 
dulged the  dream  that  he  would  come  back  a  boy.  She  was 
still  sore  on  the  point  of  his  politics.  These  things  could  not 
be  helped,  but  so  far  as  he  could,  he  wished  to  make  the  rest 
of  her  life  as  cheerful  as  possible. 

Esther  listened  eagerly,  and  took  these  things  to  heart. 
The  claim  to  an  inheritance,  the  sudden  discovery  of  a  right 
to  a  fortune  held  by  others,  was  acquiring  a  very  distinct  and 
unexpected  meaning  for  her.  Every  day  she  was  getting  more 
clearly  into  her  imagination  what  it  would  be  to  abandon  her 
own  past,  and  what  she  would  enter  into  in  exchange  for  it ; 
what  it  would  be  to  disturb  a  long  possession,  and  how  diffi- 
cult it  was  to  fix  a  point  at  which  the  disturbance  might  begin, 
so  as  to  be  contemplated  without  pain. 

Harold  Transome's  thoughts  turned  on  the  same  subject, 
but  accompanied  by  a  different  state  of  feeling  and  with  more 
definite  resolutions.  He  saw  a  mode  of  reconciling  all  diffi- 
culties, which  looked  pleasanter  to  him  the  longer  he  looked 
at  Esther.  When  she  had  been  hardly  a  week  in  the  house, 
he  had  made  up  his  mind  to  marry  her  ;  and  it  had  never  en- 
tered into  that  mind  that  the  decision  did  not  rest  entirely  with 
his  inclination.  It  was  not  that  he  thought  slightly  of  Esther's 
demands ;  he  saw  that  she  would  require  considerable  attrac- 
tions to  please  her,  and  that  there  were  difficulties  to  be  over- 
come. She  was  clearly  a  girl  who  must  be  wooed  ;  but  Har- 
old did  not  despair  of  presenting  the  requisite  attractions,  and 
the  difficulties  gave  more  interest  to  the  wooing  than  he  could 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  393 

have  believed.  When  he  had  said  that  he  would  not  marry 
an  English-woman,  he  had  always  made  a  mental  reservation 
in  favor  of  peculiar  circumstances  ;  and  now  the  peculiar  cir- 
cumstances were  come.  To  be  deeply  in  love  was  a  catastrophe 
not  likely  to  happen  to  him ;  but  he  was  readily  amorous.  No 
woman  could  make  him  miserable,  but  he  was  sensitive  to  the 
presence  of  women,  and  was  kind  to  them  ;  not  with  grimaces, 
like  a  man  of  mere  gallantry,  but  beamingly,  easily,  like  a  man 
of  genuine  good-nature.  And  each  day  that  he  was  near 
Esther,  the  solution  of  all  difficulties  by  marriage  became  a 
more  pleasing  prospect ;  though  he  had  to  confess  to  himself 
that  the  difficulties  did  not  diminish  on  a  nearer  view, 
in  spite  of  the  flattering  sense  that  she  brightened  at  his 
approach. 

Harold  was  not  one  to  fail  in  a  purpose  for  want  of  assi- 
duity. After  an  hour  or  two  devoted  to  business  in  the  morn- 
ing, he  went  to  look  for  Esther,  and  if  he  did  not  find  her  at 
play  with  Harry  and  old  Mr.  Transome,  or  chatting  with  his 
mother,  he  went  into  the  drawing-room,  where  she  was  usually 
either  seated  with  a  book  on  her  knee  and  "  making  a  bed  for 
her  cheek  "  with  one  little  hand,  while  she  looked  out  of  the 
window,  or  else  standing  in  front  of  one  of  the  full-length 
family  portraits  with  an  air  of  rumination.  Esther  found  it 
impossible  to  read  in  these  days ;  her  life  was  a  book  which 
she  seemed  herself  to  be  constructing  —  trying  to  make  char- 
acter clear  before  her,  and  looking  into  the  ways  of  destiny. 

The  active  Harold  had  almost  always  something  definite  to 
propose  by  way  of  filling  the  time :  if  it  were  fine,  she  must 
walk  out  with  him  and  see  the  grounds ;  and  when  the  snow 
melted  and  it  was  no  longer  slippery,  she  must  get  on  horse- 
back and  learn  to  ride.  If  they  stayed  indoors,  she  must 
learn  to  play  at  billiards,  or  she  must  go  over  the  house  and 
see  the  pictures  he  had  had  hung  anew,  or  the  costumes  he 
had  brought  from  the  East,  or  come  into  his  study  and  look  at 
the  map  of  the  estate,  and  hear  what  —  if  it  had  remained  in 
his  family  —  he  had  intended  to  do  in  every  corner  of  it  in 
order  to  make  the  most  of  its  capabilities. 

About  a  certain  time  in  the  morning  Esther  had  learned  to 


394  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL. 

expect  him.  Let  every  wooer  make  himself  strongly  expected ; 
he  may  succeed  by  dint  of  being  absent,  but  hardly  in  the  first 
instance.  One  morning  Harold  found  her  in  the  drawing- 
room,  leaning  against  a  console-table,  and  looking  at  the 
full-length  portrait  of  a  certain  Lady  Betty  Transome,  who 
had  lived  a  century  and  a  half  before,  and  had  the  usual 
charm  of  ladies  in  Sir  Peter  Lely's  style. 

"Don't  move,  pray,"  he  said  on  entering;  "you  look  as  if 
you  were  standing  for  your  own  portrait." 

"  I  take  that  as  an  insinuation,"  said  Esther,  laughing,  and 
moving  towards  her  seat  on  an  ottoman  near  the  fire,  "  for  I 
notice  almost  all  the  portraits  are  in  a  conscious,  affected  atti- 
tude. That  fair  Lady  Betty  looks  as  if  she  had  been  drilled 
into  that  posture,  and  had  not  will  enough  of  her  own  ever  to 
move  again  unless  she  had  a  little  push  given  to  her." 

"  She  brightens  up  that  panel  well  with  her  long  satin  skirt," 
said  Harold,  as  he  followed  Esther,  "  but  alive  I  dare  say  she 
would  have  been  less  cheerful  company." 

"One  would  certainly  think  that  she  had  just  been  unpacked 
from  silver  paper.  Ah,  how  chivalrous  you  are!"  said  Es- 
ther, as  Harold,  kneeling  on  one  knee,  held  her  silken  netting- 
stirrup  for  her  to  put  her  foot  through.  She  had  often  fancied 
pleasant  scenes  in  which  such  homage  was  rendered  to  her, 
and  the  homage  was  not  disagreeable  now  it  was  really  come  ; 
but,  strangely  enough,  a  little  darting  sensation  at  that  mo- 
ment was  accompanied  by  the  vivid  remembrance  of  some  one 
who  had  never  paid  the  least  attention  to  her  foot.  There 
had  been  a  slight  blush,  such  as  often  came  and  went  rapidly, 
and  she  was  silent  a  moment.  Harold  naturally  believed  that 
it  was  he  himself  who  was  filling  the  field  of  vision.  He 
would  have  liked  to  place  himself  on  the  ottoman  near  Es- 
ther, and  behave  very  much  more  like  a  lover;  but  he  took 
a  chair  opposite  to  her  at  a  circumspect  distance.  He  dared 
not  do  otherwise.  Along  with  Esther's  playful  charm  she 
conveyed  an  impression  of  personal  pride  and  high  spirit 
which  warned  Harold's  acuteness  that  in  the  delicacy  of 
their  present  position  he  might  easily  make  a  false  move  and 
offend  her.  A  woman  was  likely  to  be  credulous  about  adora- 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  395 

tion,  and  to  find  no  difficulty  in  referring  it  to  her  intrinsic 
attractions ;  but  Esther  was  too  dangerously  quick  and  critical 
not  to  discern  the  least  awkwardness  that  looked  like  offering 
her  marriage  as  a  convenient  compromise  for  himself.  Be- 
forehand, he  might  have  said  that  such  characteristics  as  hers 
were  not  lovable  in  a  woman ;  but,  as  it  was,  he  found  that 
the  hope  of  pleasing  her  had  a  piquancy  quite  new  to  him. 

"  I  wonder,"  said  Esther,  breaking  her  silence  in  her  usual 
light  silvery  tones  —  "I  wonder  whether  the  woman  who 
looked  in  that  way  ever  felt  any  troubles.  I  see  there  are 
two  old  ones  up-stairs  in  the  billiard-room  who  have  only  got 
fat ;  the  expression  of  their  faces  is  just  of  the  same  sort." 

"  A  woman  ought  never  to  have  any  trouble.  There  should 
always  be  a  man  to  guard  her  from  it."  (Harold  Transome 
was  masculine  and  fallible ;  he  had  incautiously  sat  down  this 
morning  to  pay  his  addresses  by  talk  about  nothing  in  par- 
ticular ;  and,  clever  experienced  man  as  he  was,  he  fell  into 
nonsense.) 

"But  suppose  the  man  himself  got  into  trouble — you  would 
wish  her  to  mind  about  that.  Or  suppose,"  added  Esther, 
suddenly  looking  up  merrily  at  Harold,  "  the  man  himself 
was  troublesome  ?  " 

"  Oh,  you  must  not  strain  probabilities  in  that  way.  The 
generality  of  men  are  perfect.  Take  me,  for  example." 

"  You  are  a  perfect  judge  of  sauces,"  said  Esther,  who  had 
her  triumphs  in  letting  Harold  know  that  she  was  capable  of 
taking  notes. 

"  That  is  perfection  number  one.     Pray  go  on." 

"Oh,  the  catalogue  is  too  long  —  I  should  be  tired  before 
I  got  to  your  magnificent  ruby  ring  and  your  gloves  always 
of  the  right  color." 

"  If  you  would  let  me  tell  you  your  perfections,  I  should 
not  be  tired." 

"  That  is  not  complimentary ;  it  means  that  the  list  is 
short." 

"  Xo ;  it  means  that  the  list  is  pleasant  to  dwell  upon." 

"  Pray  don't  begin,"  said  Esther,  with  her  pretty  toss  of 
the  head ;  "  it  would  be  dangerous  to  our  good  understanding. 


396  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

The  person  I  liked  best  in  the  world  was  one  who  did  nothing 
but  scold  me  and  tell  me  of  my  faults." 

When  Esther  began  to  speak,  she  meant  to  do  no  more 
than  make  a  remote  unintelligible  allusion,  feeling,  it  must  be 
owned,  a  naughty  will  to  flirt  and  be  saucy,  and  thwart  Har- 
old's attempts  to  be  felicitous  in  compliment.  But  she  had 
no  sooner  uttered  the  words  than  they  seemed  to  her  like  a 
confession.  A  deep  flush  spread  itself  over  her  face  and  neck, 
and  the  sense  that  she  was  blushing  went  on  deepening  her 
color.  Harold  felt  himself  unpleasantly  illuminated  as  to  a 
possibility  that  had  never  yet  occurred  to  him.  His  surprise 
made  an  uncomfortable  pause,  in  which  Esther  had  time  to 
feel  much  vexation. 

"  You  speak  in  the  past  tense,"  said  Harold,  at  last ;  "  yet 
I  am  rather  envious  of  that  person.  I  shall  never  be  able  to 
win  your  regard  in  the  same  way.  Is  it  any  one  at  Treby  ? 
Because  in  that  case  I  can  inquire  about  your  faults." 

"  Oh,  you  know  I  have  always  lived  among  grave  people," 
said  Esther,  more  able  to  recover  herself  now  she  was  spoken 
to.  "  Before  I  came  home  to  be  with  my  father  I  was  noth- 
ing but  a  school-girl  first,  and  then  a  teacher  in  different  stages 
of  growth.  People  in  those  circumstances  are  not  usually 
flattered.  But  there  are  varieties  in  fault-finding.  At  our 
Paris  school  the  master  I  liked  best  was  an  old  man  who 
stormed  at  me  terribly  when  I  read  Kacine,  but  yet  showed 
that  he  was  proud  of  me." 

Esther  was  getting  quite  cool  again.  But  Harold  was  not 
entirely  satisfied ;  if  there  was  any  obstacle  in  his  way,  he 
wished  to  know  exactly  what  it  was. 

"  That  must  have  been  a  wretched  life  for  you  at  Treby," 
he  said,  —  "a  person  of  your  accomplishments." 

"  I  used  to  be  dreadfully  discontented,"  said  Esther,  much 
occupied  with  mistakes  she  had  made  in  her  netting.  "  But  I 
was  becoming  less  so.  I  have  had  time  to  get  rather  wise, 
you  know ;  I  am  two-and-twenty." 

"  Yes,"  said  Harold,  rising  and  walking  a  few  paces  back- 
wards and  forwards,  "  you  are  past  your  majority ;  you  are 
empress  of  your  own  fortunes  —  and  more  besides." 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  397 

"  Dear  me,"  said  Esther,  letting  her  work  fall,  and  leaning 
back  against  the  cushions  ;  "  I  don't  think  I  know  very  well 
what  to  do  with  my  empire." 

"  Well,"  said  Harold,  pausing  in  front  of  her,  leaning  one 
arm  on  the  mantel-piece,  and  speaking  very  gravely,  "  I  hope 
that  in  any  case,  since  you  appear  to  have  no  near  relative 
who  understands  affairs,  you  will  confide  in  me,  and  trust  me 
with  all  your  intentions  as  if  I  had  no  other  personal  concern 
in  the  matter  than  a  regard  for  you.  I  hope  you  believe  me 
capable  of  acting  as  the  guardian  of  your  interest,  even  where 
it  turns  out  to  be  inevitably  opposed  to  my  own." 

"  I  am  sure  you  have  given  me  reason  to  believe  it,"  said 
Esther,  with  seriousness,  putting  out  her  hand  to  Harold. 
She  had  not  been  left  in  ignorance  that  he  had  had  opportu- 
nities twice  offered  of  stifling  her  claims. 

Harold  raised  the  hand  to  his  lips,  but  dared  not  retain  it 
more  than  an  instant.  Still  the  sweet  reliance  in  Esther's 
manner  made  an  irresistible  temptation  to  him.  After  stand- 
ing still  a  moment  or  two,  while  she  bent  over  her  work,  he 
glided  to  the  ottoman  and  seated  himself  close  by  her,  looking 
at  her  busy  hands. 

"  I  see  you  have  made  mistakes  in  your  work,"  he  said, 
bending  still  nearer,  for  he  saw  that  she  was  conscious,  yet 
not  angry. 

"  Nonsense  !  you  know  nothing  about  it,"  said  Esther, 
laughing,  and  crushing  up  the  soft  silk  under  her  palms. 
"Those  blunders  have  a  design  in  them." 

She  looked  round,  and  saw  a  handsome  face  very  near  her. 
Harold  was  looking,  as  he  felt,  thoroughly  enamored  of  this 
bright  woman,  who  was  not  at  all  to  his  preconceived  taste. 
Perhaps  a  touch  of  hypothetic  jealousy  now  helped  to  heighten 
the  effect.  But  he  mastered  all  indiscretion,  and  only  looked 
at  her  as  he  said  — 

"  I  am  wondering  whether  you  have  any  deep  wishes  and 
secrets  that  I  can't  guess." 

"  Pray  don't  speak  of  my  wishes,"  said  Esther,  quite  over- 
mastered by  this  new  and  apparently  involuntary  manifesta- 
tion in  Harold ;  "  I  could  not  possibly  tell  you  one  at  this 


398  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

moment  —  I  think  I  shall  never  find  them  out  again.  Oh 
yes,"  she  said,  abruptly,  struggling  to  relieve  herself  from  the 
oppression  of  unintelligible  feelings  —  "I  do  know  one  wish 
distinctly.  I  want  to  go  and  see  my  father.  He  writes  me 
word  that  all  is  well  with  him,  but  still  I  want  to  see  him." 

"  You  shall  be  driven  there  when  you  like." 

"  May  I  go  now  —  I  mean  as  soon  as  it  is  convenient  ?  " 
said  Esther,  rising. 

"  I  will  give  the  order  immediately,  if  you  wish  it,"  said 
Harold,  understanding  that  the  audience  was  broken  up. 


CHAPTER  XLI. 

He  rates  me  as  the  merchant  does  the  wares 
He  will  not  purchase  —  "  quality  not  high  !  — 
'T  will  lose  its  color  opened  to  the  sun, 
Has  no  aroma,  and,  in  fine,  is  naught  — 
I  barter  not  for  such  commodities  — 
There  is  no  ratio  betwixt  sand  and  gems." 
T  is  wicked  judgment !  for  the  soul  can  grow, 
As  embryos,  that  live  and  move  but  blindly, 
Burst  from  the  dark,  emerge  regenerate, 
And  lead  a  life  of  vision  and  of  choice. 

ESTHER  did  not  take  the  carriage  into  Malthouse  Lane,  but 
left  it  to  wait  for  her  outside  the  town ;  and  when  she  entered 
the  house  she  put  her  finger  on  her  lip  to  Lyddy  and  ran 
lightly  up-stairs.  She  wished  to  surprise  her  father  by  this 
visit,  and  she  succeeded.  The  little  minister  was  just  then 
almost  surrounded  by  a  wall  of  books,  with  merely  his  head 
peeping  above  them,  being  much  embarrassed  to  find  a  substi- 
tute for  tables  and  desks  on  which  to  arrange  the  volumes  he 
kept  open  for  reference.  He  was  absorbed  in  mastering  all 
those  painstaking  interpretations  of  the  Book  of  Daniel,  which 
are  by  this  time  well  gone  to  the  limbo  of  mistaken  criti- 
cism ;  and  Esther,  as  she  opened  the  door  softly,  heard  him 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  399 

rehearsing  aloud  a  passage  in  which  he  declared,  with  some 
parenthetic  provisos,  that  he  conceived  not  how  a  perverse 
ingenuity  could  blunt  the  edge  of  prophetic  explicitness, 
or  how  an  open  mind  could  fail  to  see  in  the  chronology 
of  "the  little  horn"  the  resplendent  lamp  of  an  inspired 
symbol  searching  out  the  germinal  growth  of  an  antichristian 
power. 

"  You  will  not  like  me  to  interrupt  you,  father  ? "  said 
Esther,  slyly. 

"  Ah,  my  beloved  child  !  "  he  exclaimed,  upsetting  a  pile  of 
books,  and  thus  unintentionally  making  a  convenient  breach 
in  his  wall,  through  which  Esther  could  get  up  to  him  and 
kiss  him.  "  Thy  appearing  is  as  a  joy  despaired  of.  I  had 
thought  of  thee  as  the  blinded  think  of  the  daylight  —  which 
indeed  is  a  thing  to  rejoice  in,  like  all  other  good,  though  we 
see  it  not  nigh." 

"Are  you  sure  you  have  been  as  well  and  comfortable  as 
you  said  you  were  in  your  letters  ?  "  said  Esther,  seating  her- 
self close  in  front  of  her  father,  and  laying  her  hand  on  his 
shoulder. 

"  I  wrote  truly,  my  dear,  according  to  my  knowledge  at  the 
time.  But  to  an  old  memory  like  mine  the  present  days  are 
but  as  a  little  water  poured  on  the  deep.  It  seems  now  that 
all  has  been  as  usual,  except  my  studies,  which  have  gone 
somewhat  curiously  into  prophetic  history.  But  I  fear  you 
will  rebuke  me  for  my  negligent  apparel,"  said  the  little  man, 
feeling  in  front  of  Esther's  brightness  like  a  bat  overtaken  by 
the  morning. 

"  That  is  Lyddy's  fault,  who  sits  crying  over  her  want  of 
Christian  assurance  instead  of  brushing  your  clothes  and  put- 
ting out  your  clean  cravat.  She  is  always  saying  her  right- 
eousness is  filthy  rags,  and  really  I  don't  think  that  is  a  very 
strong  expression  for  it.  I  'm  sure  it  is  dusty  clothes  and 
furniture." 

"Nay,  my  dear,  your  playfulness  glances  too  severely  on 
our  faithful  Lyddy.  Doubtless  I  am  myself  deficient,  in  that 
I  do  not  aid  her  infirm  memory  by  admonition.  But  now  tell 
me  aught  that  you  have  left  untold  about  yourself.  Your 


400  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL. 

heart  has  gone  out  somewhat  towards  this  family  —  the  old 
man  and  the  child,  whom  I  had  not  reckoned  of  ?  " 

"Yes,  father.  It  is  more  and  more  difficult  to  me  to  see 
how  I  can  make  up  my  mind  to  disturb  these  people  at  all." 

"  Something  should  doubtless  be  devised  to  lighten  the  loss 
and  the  change  to  the  aged  father  and  mother.  I  would  have 
you  in  any  case  seek  to  temper  a  vicissitude,  which  is  never- 
theless a  providential  arrangement  not  to  be  wholly  set  aside." 

"  Do  you  think,  father  —  do  you  feel  assured  that  a  case  of 
inheritance  like  this  of  mine  is  a  sort  of  providential  arrange- 
ment that  makes  a  command  ?  " 

"  I  have  so  held  it,"  said  Mr.  Lyon,  solemnly ;  "  in  all  my 
meditations  I  have  so  held  it.  For  you  have  to  consider,  my 
dear,  that  you  have  been  led  by  a  peculiar  path,  and  into  ex- 
perience which  is  not  ordinarily  the  lot  of  those  who  are  seated 
in  high  places  ;  and  what  I  have  hinted  to  you  already  in  rny 
letters  on  this  head,  I  shall  wish  on  a  future  opportunity  to 
enter  into  more  at  large." 

Esther  was  uneasily  silent.  On  this  great  question  of  her 
lot  she  saw  doubts  and  difficulties,  in  which  it  seemed  as  if 
her  father  could  not  help  her.  There  was  no  illumination  for 
her  in  this  theory  of  providential  arrangement.  She  said  sud- 
denly (what  she  had  not  thought  of  at  all  suddenly)  — 

"Have  you  been  again  to  see  Felix  Holt,  father?  You 
have  not  mentioned  him  in  your  letters." 

"  I  have  been  since  I  last  wrote,  my  dear,  and  I  took  his 
mother  with  me,  who,  I  fear,  made  the  time  heavy  to  him  with 
her  plaints.  But  afterwards  I  carried  her  away  to  the  house 
of  a  brother  minister  at  Loamford,  and  returned  to  Felix,  and 
then  we  had  much  discourse." 

"  Did  you  tell  him  of  everything  that  has  happened  —  I 
mean  about  me  —  about  the  Transomes  ?  " 

"  Assuredly  I  told  him,  and  he  listened  as  one  astonished. 
For  he  had  much  to  hear,  knowing  nought  of  your  birth,  and 
that  you  had  any  other  father  than  Euf us  Lyon.  JT  is  a  nar- 
rative I  trust  I  shall  net  be  called  on  to  give  to  others  ;  but  I 
was  not  without  satisfaction  in  unfolding  the  truth  to  this 
young  man,  who  hath  wrought  himself  into  my  affection 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  401 

strangely  —  I  would  fain  hope  for  ends  that  will  be  a  visible 
good  in  his  less  way-worn  life,  when  mine  shall  be  no  longer." 

"  And  you  told  him  how  the  Transomes  had  come,  and  that 
I  was  staying  at  Transome  Court  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  told  these  things  with  some  particularity,  as  is  my 
wont  concerning  what  hath  imprinted  itself  on  my  mind." 

"  What  did  Felix  say  ?  " 

"  Truly,  my  dear,  nothing  desirable  to  recite,"  said  Mr.  Lyon, 
rubbing  his  hand  over  his  brow. 

"  Dear  father,  he  did  say  something,  and  you  always  remem- 
ber what  people  say.  Pray  tell  me ;  I  want  to  know." 

"  It  was  a  hasty  remark,  and  rather  escaped  him  than  was 
consciously  framed.  He  said,  '  Then  she  will  marry  Transome  ; 
that  is  what  Transome  means.'  ' 

"  That  was  all  ? "  said  Esther,  turning  rather  pale,  and 
biting  her  lip  with  the  determination  that  the  tears  should 
not  start. 

"  Yes,  we  did  not  go  further  into  that  branch  of  the  subject. 
I  apprehend  there  is  no  warrant  for  his  seeming  prognostic, 
and  I  should  not  be  without  disquiet  if  I  thought  otherwise. 
For  I  confess  that  in  your  accession  to  this  great  position  and 
property,  I  contemplate  with  hopeful  satisfaction  your  remain- 
ing attached  to  that  body  of  congregational  Dissent,  which,  as 
I  hold,  hath  retained  most  of  pure  and  primitive  discipline. 
Your  education  and  peculiar  history  would  thus  be  seen  to 
have  coincided  with  a  long  train  of  events  in  making  this 
family  property  a  mean  of  honoring  and  illustrating  a  purer 
form  of  Christianity  than  that  which  hath  unhappily  obtained 
the  pre-eminence  in  this  land.  I  speak,  my  child,  as  you  know, 
always  in  the  hope  that  you  will  fully  join  our  communion  ; 
and  this  dear  wish  of  my  heart  —  nay,  this  urgent  prayer  — 
would  seem  to  be  frustrated  by  your  marriage  with  a  man,  of 
whom  there  is  at  least  no  visible  indication  that  he  would 
unite  himself  to  our  body." 

If  Esther  had  been  less  agitated,  she  would  hardly  have 

helped  smiling  at  the  picture  her  father's  words  suggested  of 

Harold  Transome  "joining  the  church"  in  Malthouse  Yard. 

But  she  was  too  seriously  preoccupied  with  what  Felix  had 

VOL.  in.  26 


402  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL. 

said,  which  hurt  her  in  a  two-edged  fashion  that  was  highly 
significant.  First,  she  was  angry  with  him  for  daring  to  say 
positively  whom  she  would  marry  ;  secondly,  she  was  augry  at 
the  implication  that  there  was  from  the  first  a  cool  deliberate 
design  in  Harold  Transome  to  marry  her.  Esther  said  to  her- 
self that  she  was  quite  capable  of  discerning  Harold  Transome's 
disposition,  and  judging  of  his  conduct.  She  felt  sure  he  was 
generous  and  open.  It  did  not  lower  him  in  her  opinion  that 
since  circumstances  had  brought  them  together  he  evidently 
admired  her  —  was  in  love  with  her  —  in  short,  desired  to 
marry  her ;  and  she  thought  that  she  discerned  the  delicacy 
which  hindered  him  from  being  more  explicit.  There  is  no 
point  on  which  young  women  are  more  easily  piqued  than  this 
of  their  sufficiency  to  judge  the  men  who  make  love  to  them. 
And  Esther's  generous  nature  delighted  to  believe  in  gener- 
osity. All  these  thoughts  were  making  a  tumult  in  her  mind 
while  her  father  was  suggesting  the  radiance  her  lot  might 
cast  on  the  cause  of  congregational  Dissent.  She  heard  what 
he  said,  and  remembered  it  afterwards,  but  she  made  no  reply 
at  present,  and  chose  rather  to  start  up  in  search  of  a  brush 
—  an  action  which  would  seem  to  her  father  quite  a  usual 
sequence  with  her.  It  served  the  purpose  of  diverting  him 
from  a  lengthy  subject. 

"  Have  you  yet  spoken  with  Mr.  Transome  concerning  Mrs. 
Holt,  my  dear  ? "  he  said,  as  Esther  was  moving  about  the 
room.  "I  hinted  to  him  that  you  would  best  decide  how 
assistance  should  be  tendered  to  her." 

"No,  father,  we  have  not  approached  the  subject.  Mr. 
Transome  may  have  forgotten  it,  and,  for  several  reasons,  I 
would  rather  not  talk  of  this  —  of  money  matters  to  him  at 
present.  There  is  money  due  to  me  from  the  Lukyns  and  the 
Pendrells." 

"They  have  paid  it,"  said  Mr.  Lyon,  opening  his  desk.  "  I 
have  it  here  ready  to  deliver  to  you." 

"  Keep  it,  father,  and  pay  Mrs.  Holt's  rent  with  it,  and  do 
anything  else  that  is  wanted  for  her.  We  must  consider  every- 
thing temporary  now,"  said  Esther,  enveloping  her  father  in  a 
towel,  and  beginning  to  brush  his  auburn  fringe  of  hair,  while 


FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL.  403 

he  shut  his  eyes  in  preparation  for  this  pleasant  passivity. 
"  Everything  is  uncertain  —what  may  become  of  Felix  —  what 
may  become  of  us  all.  Oh  dear ! "  she  went  on,  changing  sud- 
denly to  laughing  merriment,  "I  am  beginning  to  talk  like 
Lyddy,  I  think." 

"Truly,"  said  Mr.  Lyon,  smiling,  "the  uncertainty  of  things 
is  a  text  rather  too  wide  and  obvious  for  fruitful  application  ; 
and  to  discourse  of  it  is,  as  one  may  say,  to  bottle  up  the  air, 
and  make  a  present  of  it  to  those  who  are  already  standing 
out  of  doors." 

"  Do  you  think,"  said  Esther,  in  the  course  of  their  chat, 
"  that  the  Treby  people  know  at  all  about  the  reasons  of  my 
being  at  Transome  Court  ?  " 

"  I  have  had  no  sign  thereof ;  and  indeed  there  is  no  one,  as 
it  appears,  who  could  make  the  story  public.  •  The  man  Chris- 
tian is  away  in  London  with  Mr.  Debarry,  Parliament  now 
beginning ;  and  Mr.  Jermyn  would  doubtless  respect  the  con- 
fidence of  the  Transomes.  I  have  not  seen  him  lately.  I 
know  nothing  of  his  movements.  And  so  far  as  my  own 
speech  is  concerned,  and  my  strict  command  to  Lyddy,  I  have 
withheld  the  means  of  information  even  as  to  your  having  re- 
turned to  Transome  Court  in  the  carriage,  not  wishing  to  give 
any  occasion  to  solicitous  questioning  till  time  hath  somewhat 
inured  me.  But  it  hath  got  abroad  that  you  are  there,  and  is 
the  subject  of  conjectures,  whereof,  I  imagine,  the  chief  is, 
that  you  are  gone  as  companion  to  Mistress  Transome ;  for 
some  of  our  friends  have  already  hinted  a  rebuke  to  me  that  I 
should  permit  your  taking  a  position  so  little  likely  to  further 
your  spiritual  welfare." 

"  Now,  father,  I  think  I  shall  be  obliged  to  run  away  from 
you,  not  to  keep  the  carriage  too  long,"  said  Esther,  as  she 
finished  her  reforms  on  the  minister's  toilet.  "  You  look 
beautiful  now,  and  I  must  give  Lyddy  a  little  lecture  before 
I  go." 

"  Yes,  my  dear ;  I  would  not  detain  you,  seeing  that  my 
duties  demand  me.  But  take  with  you  this  Treatise,  which 
I  have  purposely  selected.  It  concerns  all  the  main  ques- 
tions between  ourselves  and  the  Establishment  —  government, 


404  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  KADICAL. 

discipline,  State-support.  It  is  seasonable  that  you  should  give 
a  nearer  attention  to  these  polemics,  lest  you  be  drawn  aside 
by  the  fallacious  association  of  a  State  Church  with  elevated 
rank." 

Esther  chose  to  take  the  volume  submissively,  rather  than 
to  adopt  the  ungraceful  sincerity  of  saying  that  she  was  unable 
at  present  to  give  her  mind  to  the  original  functions  of  a 
bishop,  or  the  comparative  merit  of  Endowments  and  Volun- 
taryism. But  she  did  not  run  her  eyes  over  the  pages  during 
her  solitary  drive  to  get  a  foretaste  of  the  argument,  for  she 
was  entirely  occupied  with  Felix  Holt's  prophecy  that  she 
would  marry  Harold  Transome. 


CHAPTER  XLII. 

Thou  sayst  it,  and  not  I ;  for  thon  hast  done 
The  ugly  deed  that  made  these  ugly  words. 

SOPHOCLES  :  Electro. 

Yea,  it  becomes  a  man 
To  cherish  memory,  where  he  had  delight. 
For  kindness  is  the  natural  birth  of  kindness. 
Whose  soul  records  not  the  great  debt  of  joy, 
Is  stamped  forever  an  ignoble  man. 

SOPHOCLES  :  Ajax. 

IT  so  happened  that,  on  the  morning  of  the  day  when 
Esther  went  to  see  her  father,  Jermyn  had  not  yet  heard  of 
her  presence  at  Transome  Court.  One  fact  conducing  to  keep 
him  in  this  ignorance  was,  that  some  days  after  his  critical 
interview  with  Harold  —  days  during  which  he  had  been 
wondering  how  long  it  would  be  before  Harold  made  up  his 
mind  to  sacrifice  the  luxury  of  satisfied  anger  for  the  solid 
advantage  of  securing  fortune  and  position  —  he  was  peremp- 
torily called  away  by  business  to  the  south  of  England,  and 
was  obliged  to  inform  Harold  by  letter  of  his  absence.  He 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  405 

took  care  also  to  notify  his  return  ;  but  Harold  made  no  sign 
in  reply.  The  days  passed  without  bringing  him  any  gossip 
concerning  Esther's  visit,  for  such  gossip  was  almost  confined 
to  Mr.  Lyon's  congregation,  her  Church  pupils,  Miss  Louisa 
Jermyn  among  them,  having  been  satisfied  by  her  father's 
written  statement  that  she  was  gone  on  a  visit  of  uncertain 
duration.  But  on  this  day  of  Esther's  call  in  Malthouse  Yard, 
the  Miss  Jermyns  in  their  walk  saw  her  getting  into  the 
Transomes'  carriage,  which  they  had  previously  observed  to  be 
waiting,  and  which  they  now  saw  bowled  along  on  the  road 
towards  Little  Treby.  It  followed  that  only  a  few  hours  later 
the  news  reached  the  astonished  ears  of  Matthew  Jermyn. 

Entirely  ignorant  of  those  converging  indications  and  small 
links  of  incident  which  had  raised  Christian's  conjectures, 
and  had  gradually  contributed  to  put  him  in  possession  of  the 
facts ;  ignorant  too  of  some  busy  motives  in  the  mind  of  his 
obliged  servant  Johnson ;  Jermyn  was  not  likely  to  see  at 
once  how  the  momentous  information  that  Esther  was  the 
surviving  Bycliffe  could  possibly  have  reached  Harold.  His 
daughters  naturally  leaped,  as  others  had  done,  to  the  con- 
clusion that  the  Transomes,  seeking  a  governess  for  little 
Harry,  had  had  their  choice  directed  to  Esther,  and  observed 
that  they  must  have  attracted  her  by  a  high  salary  to  induce 
her  to  take  charge  of  such  a  small  pupil ;  though  of  course  it 
was  important  that  his  English  and  French  should  be  carefully 
attended  to  from  the  first.  Jermyn,  hearing  this  suggestion, 
was  not  without  a  momentary  hope  that  it  might  be  true,  and 
that  Harold  was  still  safely  unconscious  of  having  under  the 
same  roof  with  him  the  legal  claimant  of  the  family  estate. 

But  a  mind  in  the  grasp  of  a  terrible  anxiety  is  not  credu- 
lous of  easy  solutions.  The  one  stay  that  bears  up  our  hopes 
is  sure  to  appear  frail,  and  if  looked  at  long  will  seem  to  totter. 
Too  much  depended  on  that  unconsciousness  of  Harold's ;  and 
although  Jermyn  did  not  see  the  course  of  things  that  could 
have  disclosed  and  combined  the  various  items  of  knowledge 
which  he  had  imagined  to  be  his  own  secret,  and  therefore  his 
safeguard,  he  saw  quite  clearly  what  was  likely  to  be  the 
result  of  the  disclosure.  Not  only  would  Harold  Transome 


406  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

be  no  longer  afraid  of  him,  but  also,  by  marrying  Esther 
(and  Jermyn  at  once  felt  sure  of  this  issue),  he  would  be 
triumphantly  freed  from  any  unpleasant  consequences,  and 
could  pursue  much  at  his  ease  the  gratification  of  ruining 
Matthew  Jermyn.  The  prevision  of  an  enemy's  triumphant 
ease  is  in  any  case  sufficiently  irritating  to  hatred,  and  there 
were  reasons  why  it  was  peculiarly  exasperating  here;  but 
Jermyn  had  not  the  leisure  now  for  mere  fruitless  emotion : 
he  had  to  think  of  a  possible  device  which  might  save  him 
from  imminent  ruin  —  not  an  indefinite  adversity,  but  a  ruin 
in  detail,  which  his  thoughts  painted  out  with  the  sharpest, 
ugliest  intensity.  A  man  of  sixty,  with  an  unsuspicious  wife 
and  daughters  capable  of  shrieking  and  fainting  at  a  sudden 
revelation,  and  of  looking  at  him  reproachfully  in  their  daily 
misery  under  a  shabby  lot  to  which  he  had  reduced  them  — 
with  a  mind  and  with  habits  dried  hard  by  the  years  —  with 
no  glimpse  of  an  endurable  standing-ground  except  where  he- 
could  domineer  and  be  prosperous  according  to  the  ambitions 
of  pushing  middle-class  gentility,  —  such  a  man  is  likely  to 
find  the  prospect  of  worldly  ruin  ghastly  enough  to  drive  him 
to  the  most  uninviting  means  of  escape.  He  will  probably 
prefer  any  private  scorn  that  will  save  him  from  public  in- 
famy or  that  will  leave  him  money  in  his  pocket,  to  the 
humiliation  and  hardship  of  new  servitude  in  old  age,  a  shabby 
hat  and  a  melancholy  hearth,  where  the  firing  must  be  used 
charily  and  the  women  look  sad.  But  though  a  man  may  be 
willing  to  escape  through  a  sewer,  a  sewer  with  an  outlet  into 
the  dry  air  is  not  always  at  hand.  Running  away,  especially 
when  spoken  of  as  absconding,  seems  at  a  distance  to  offer  a 
good  modern  substitute  for  the  right  of  sanctuary ;  but  seen 
closely,  it  is  often  found  inconvenient  and  scarcely  possible. 

Jermyn,  on  thoroughly  considering  his  position,  saw  that 
he  had  no  very  agreeable  resources  at  command.  But  he  soon 
made  up  his  mind  what  he  would  do  next.  He  wrote  to  Mrs. 
Transome  requesting  her  to  appoint  an  hour  in  which  he  could 
see  her  privately :  he  knew  she  would  understand  that  it  was 
to  be  an  hour  when  Harold  was  not  at  home.  As  he  sealed 
the  letter,  he  indulged  a  faint  hope  that  in  this  interview  he 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  407 

might  be  assured  of  Esther's  birth  being  unknown  at  Tran- 
soine  Court ;  but  in  the  worst  case,  perhaps  some  help  might 
be  found  in  Mrs.  Transome.  To  such  uses  may  tender  rela- 
tions come  when  they  have  ceased  to  be  tender  !  The  Hazaels 
of  our  world  who  are  pushed  on  quickly  against  their  precon- 
ceived confidence  in  themselves  to  do  doglike  actions  by  the 
sudden  suggestion  of  a  wicked  ambition,  are  much  fewer  than 
those  who  are  led  on  through  the  years  by  the  gradual  de- 
mands of  a  selfishness  which  has  spread  its  fibres  far  and  wide 
through  the  intricate  vanities  and  sordid  cares  of  an  every- 
day existence. 

In  consequence  of  that  letter  to  Mrs.  Transome,  Jermyn 
was  two  days  afterwards  ushered  into  the  smaller  drawing- 
room  at  Transome  Court.  It  was  a  charming  little  room  in 
its  refurbished  condition :  it  had  two  pretty  inlaid  cabinets, 
great  china  vases  with  contents  that  sent  forth  odors  of  para- 
dise, groups  of  flowers  in  oval  frames  on  the  walls,  and  Mrs. 
Transome's  own  portrait  in  the  evening  costume  of  1800,  with 
a  garden  in  the  background.  That  brilliant  young  woman 
looked  smilingly  down  on  Mr.  Jermyn  as  he  passed  in  front 
of  the  fire  ;  and  at  present  hers  was  the  only  gaze  in  the  room. 
He  could  not  help  meeting  the  gaze  as  he  waited,  holding  his 
hat  behind  him  —  could  not  help  seeing  many  memories  lit 
up  by  it ;  but  the  strong  bent  of  his  mind  was  to  go  on  argu- 
ing each  memory  into  a  claim,  and  to  see  in  the  regard  others 
had  for  him  a  merit  of  his  own.  There  had  been  plenty  of 
roads  open  to  him  when  he  was  a  young  man  ;  perhaps  if  he 
had  not  allowed  himself  to  be  determined  (chiefly,  of  course, 
by  the  feelings  of  others,  for  of  what  effect  would  his  own 
feelings  have  been  without  them  ?)  into  the  road  he  actually 
took,  he  might  have  done  better  for  himself.  At  any  rate,  he 
was  likely  at  last  to  get  the  worst  of  it,  and  it  was  he  who  had 
most  reason  to  complain.  The  fortunate  Jason,  as  we  know 
from  Euripides,  piously  thanked  the  goddess,  and  saw  clearly 
that  he  was  not  at  all  obliged  to  Medea :  Jermyu  was  perhaps 
not  aware  of  the  precedent,  but  thought  out  his  own  freedom 
from  obligation  and  the  indebtedness  of  others  towards  him 
with  a  native  faculty  not  inferior  to  Jason's. 


408  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

Before  three  minutes  had  passed,  however,  as  if  by  some 
sorcery,  the  brilliant  smiling  young  woman  above  the  mantel- 
piece seemed  to  be  appearing  at  the  doorway  withered  and 
frosted  by  many  winters,  and  with  lips  and  eyes  from  which 
the  smile  had  departed.  Jerinyn  advanced,  and  they  shook 
hands,  but  neither  of  them  said  anything  by  way  of  greeting. 
Mrs.  Transome  seated  herself,  and  pointed  to  a  chair  opposite 
and  near  her. 

"Harold  has  gone  to  Loamford,"  she  said,  in  a  subdued 
tone.  "  You  had  something  particular  to  say  to  me  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Jermyn,  with  his  soft  and  deferential  air.  "  The 
last  time  I  was  here  I  could  not  take  the  opportunity  of  speak- 
ing to  you.  But  I  am  anxious  to  know  whether  you  are  aware 
of  what  has  passed  between  me  and  Harold  ?  " 

"  Yes,  he  has  told  me  everything." 

"  About  his  proceedings  against  me  ?  and  the  reason  he 
stopped  them  ?  " 

"  Yes :  have  you  had  notice  that  he  has  begun  them 
again  ?  " 

"  No,"  said  Jermyn,  with  a  very  unpleasant  sensation. 

"  Of  course  he  will  now,"  said  Mrs.  Transome.  "  There  is 
no  reason  in  his  mind  why  he  should  not." 

"  Has  he  resolved  to  risk  the  estate  then  ?  " 

"  He  feels  in  no  danger  on  that  score.  And  if  there  were, 
the  danger  does  n't  depend  on  you.  The  most  likely  thing  is, 
that  he  will  marry  this  girl." 

"  He  knows  everything  then  ?  "  said  Jermyn,  the  expression 
of  his  face  getting  clouded. 

"Everything.  It's  of  no  use  for  you  to  think  of  mastering 
him :  you  can't  do  it.  I  used  to  wish  Harold  to  be  fortunate 
—  and  he  is  fortunate,"  said  Mrs.  Transome,  with  intense  bit- 
terness. "  It 's  not  my  star  that  he  inherits." 

"  Do  you  know  how  he  came  by  the  information  about  this 
girl  ?  " 

"  Xo  ;  but  she  knew  it  all  before  we  spoke  to  her.  It 's  no 
secret." 

Jermyn  was  confounded  by  this  hopeless  frustration  to  which 
he  had  no  key.  Though  he  thought  of  Christian,  the  thought 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  409 

shed  no  light ;  but  the  more  fatal  point  was  clear :  he  held  no 
secret  that  could  help  him. 

"  You  are  aware  that  these  Chancery  proceedings  may  ruin 
me?" 

"  He  told  me  they  would.  But  if  you  are  imagining  that 
I  can  do  anything,  dismiss  the  notion.  I  have  told  him  as 
plainly  as  I  dare  that  I  wish  him  to  drop  all  public  quarrel 
with  you,  and  that  you  could  make  an  arrangement  without 
scandal.  I  can  do  no  more.  He  will  not  listen  to  me  ;  he 
does  n't  mind  about  my  feelings.  He  cares  more  for  Mr.  Tran- 
some  than  he  does  for  me.  He  will  not  listen  to  me  any  more 
than  if  I  were  an  old  ballad-singer." 

"  It 's  very  hard  on  me,  I  know,"  said  Jermyn,  in  the  tone 
with  which  a  man  flings  out  a  reproach. 

"  I  besought  you  three  months  ago  to  bear  anything  rather 
than  quarrel  with  him." 

"  I  have  not  quarrelled  with  him.  It  is  he  who  has  been 
always  seeking  a  quarrel  with  me.  I  have  borne  a  good  deal 
—  more  than  any  one  else  would.  He  set  his  teeth  against 
me  from  the  first." 

"  He  saw  things  that  annoyed  him ;  and  men  are  not  like 
women,"  said  Mrs.  Transome.  There  was  a  bitter  innuendo  in 
that  truism. 

"  It 's  very  hard  on  me  —  I  know  that,"  said  Jermyn,  with 
an  intensification  of  his  previous  tone,  rising  and  walking  a 
step  or  two,  then  turning  and  laying  his  hand  on  the  back  of 
the  chair.  "  Of  course  the  law  in  this  case  can't  in  the  least 
represent  the  justice  of  the  matter.  I  made  a  good  many  sac- 
rifices in  times  past.  I  gave  up  a  great  deal  of  fine  business 
for  the  sake  of  attending  to  the  family  affairs,  and  in  that  law- 
suit they  would  have  gone  to  rack  and  ruin  if  it  had  n't  been 
for  me." 

He  moved  away  again,  laid  down  his  hat,  which  he  had  been 
previously  holding,  and  thrust  his  hands  into  his  pockets  as  he 
returned.  Mrs.  Transome  sat  motionless  as  marble,  and  almost 
as  pale.  Her  hands  lay  crossed  on  her  knees.  This  man, 
young,  slim,  and  graceful,  with  a  selfishness  which  then  took 
the  form  of  homage  to  her,  had  at  one  time  kneeled  to  her  and 


410  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL. 

kissed  those  hands  fervently ;  and  she  had  thought  there  was 
a  poetry  in  such  passion  beyond  any  to  be  found  in  every-day 
domesticity. 

"I  stretched  my  conscience  a  good  deal  in  that  affair  of 
Bycliffe,  as  you  know  perfectly  well.  I  told  you  everything 
at  the  time.  I  told  you  I  was  very  uneasy  about  those  wit- 
nesses, and  about  getting  him  thrown  into  prison.  I  know  it 's 
the  blackest  thing  anybody  could  charge  me  with,  if  they  knew 
my  life  from  beginning  to  end ;  and  I  should  never  have  done 
it,  if  I  had  not  been  under  an  infatuation  such  as  makes  a 
man  do  anything.  What  did  it  signify  to  me  about  the  loss 
of  the  lawsuit  ?  I  was  a  young  bachelor  —  I  had  the  world 
before  me." 

"  Yes,"  said  Mrs.  Transome,  in  a  low  tone.  "  It  was  a  pity 
you  did  n't  make  another  choice." 

"  What  would  have  become  of  you  ?  "  said  Jermyn,  carried 
along  a  climax,  like  other  self-justifiers.  "  I  had  to  think  of 
you.  You  would  not  have  liked  me  to  make  another  choice 
then." 

"  Clearly,"  said  Mrs.  Transome,  with  concentrated  bitterness, 
but  still  quietly,  "  the  greater  mistake  was  mine." 

Egoism  is  usually  stupid  in  a  dialogue  ;  but  Jermyn's  did 
not  make  him  so  stupid  that  he  did  not  feel  the  edge  of  Mrs. 
Transome's  words.  They  increased  his  irritation. 

"  1  hardly  see  that,"  he  replied,  with  a  slight  laugh  of  scorn. 
"  You  had  an  estate  and  a  position  to  save,  to  go  no  farther. 
I  remember  very  well  what  you  said  to  me  —  '  A  clever  lawyer 
can  do  anything  if  he  has  the  will ;  if  it 's  impossible,  he  will 
make  it  possible.  And  the  property  is  sure  to  be  Harold's 
some  day.'  He  was  a  baby  then." 

"  I  remember  most  things  a  little  too  well :  you  had  better 
say  at  once  what  is  your  object  in  recalling  them." 

"An  object  that  is  nothing  more  than  justice.  With  the 
relation  I  stood  in,  it  was  not  likely  I  should  think  myself 
bound  by  all  the  forms  that  are  made  to  bind  strangers.  I 
had  often  immense  trouble  to  raise  the  money  necessary  to 
pay  off  debts  and  carry  on  the  affairs ;  and,  as  I  said  before, 
I  had  given  up  other  lines  of  advancement  which  would  have 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  411 

been  open  to  me  if  I  had  not  stayed  in  this  neighborhood  at  a 
critical  time  when  I  was  fresh  to  the  world.  Anybody  who 
knew  the  whole  circumstances  would  say  that  my  being  hunted 
and  run  down  on  the  score  of  my  past  transactions  with  regard 
to  the  family  affairs,  is  an  abominably  unjust  and  unnatural 
thing." 

Jermyn  paused  a  moment,  and  then  added,  "  At  my  time  of 
life  .  .  .  and  with  a  family  about  me  —  and  after  what  has 
passed  ...  I  should  have  thought  there  was  nothing  you 
would  care  more  to  prevent." 

"  I  do  care.  It  makes  me  miserable.  That  is  the  extent  of 
my  power  —  to  feel  miserable." 

"  No,  it  is  not  the  extent  of  your  power.  You  could  save 
me  if  you  would.  It  is  not  to  be  supposed  that  Harold  would 
go  on  against  me  ...  if  he  knew  the  whole  truth." 

Jermyn  had  sat  down  before  he  uttered  the  last  words.  He 
had  lowered  his  voice  slightly.  He  had  the  air  of  one  who 
thought  that  he  had  prepared  the  way  for  an  understanding. 
That  a  man  with  so  much  sharpness,  with  so  much  suavity  at 
command  —  a  man  who  piqued  himself  on  his  persuasiveness 
towards  women,  —  should  behave  just  as  Jermyn  did  on  this 
occasion,  would  be  surprising,  but  for  the  constant  experience 
that  temper  and  selfish  insensibility  will  defeat  excellent  gifts 
—  will  make  a  sensible  person  shout  when  shouting  is  out  of 
place,  and  will  make  a  polished  man  rude  when  his  polish  might 
be  of  eminent  use  to  him. 

As  Jermyn,  sitting  down  and  leaning  forward  with  an  elbow 
on  his  knee,  uttered  his  last  words  —  "  if  he  knew  the  whole 
truth"  —a  slight  shock  seemed  to  pass  through  Mrs.  Tran- 
some's  hitherto  motionless  body,  followed  by  a  sudden  light  in 
her  eyes,  as  in  an  animal's  about  to  spring. 

"  And  you  expect  me  to  tell  him  ?  "  she  said,  not  loudly,  but 
yet  with  a  clear  metallic  ring  in  her  voice. 

"  Would  it  not  be  right  for  him  to  know  ?  "  said  Jermyn,  in 
a  more  bland  and  persuasive  tone  than  he  had  yet  used. 

Perhaps  some  of  the  most  terrible  irony  of  the  human  lot  is 
this  of  a  deep  truth  coming  to  be  uttered  by  lips  that  have  no 
right  to  it. 


412  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

"  I  will  never  tell  him  ! "  said  Mrs.  Transome,  starting  up, 
her  whole  frame  thrilled  with  a  passion  that  seemed  almost  to 
make  her  young  again.  Her  hands  hung  beside  her  clenched 
tightly,  her  eyes  and  lips  lost  the  helpless  repressed  bitterness 
of  discontent,  and  seemed  suddenly  fed  with  energy.  "  You 
reckon  up  your  sacrifices  for  me  :  you  have  kept  a  good  account 
of  them,  and  it  is  needful ;  they  are  some  of  them  what  no  one 
else  could  guess  or  find  out.  But  you  made  your  sacrifices 
when  they  seemed  pleasant  to  you ;  when  you  told  me  they 
were  your  happiness ;  when  you  told  me  that  it  was  I  who 
stooped,  and  I  who  bestowed  favors." 

Jermyn  rose  too,  and  laid  his  hand  on  the  back  of  the  chair. 
He  had  grown  visibly  paler,  but  seemed  about  to  speak. 

"  Don't  speak ! "  Mrs.  Transome  said  peremptorily.  "  Don't 
open  your  lips  again.  You  have  said  enough;  I  will  speak 
now.  I  have  made  sacrifices  too,  but  it  was  when  I  knew  that 
they  were  not  my  happiness.  It  was  after  I  saw  that  I  had 
stooped  —  after  I  saw  that  your  tenderness  had  turned  into  cal- 
culation —  after  I  saw  that  you  cared  for  yourself  only,  and  not 
for  me.  I  heard  your  explanations  —  of  your  duty  in  life  —  of 
our  mutual  reputation  —  of  a  virtuous  young  lady  attached  to 
you.  I  bore  it ;  I  let  everything  go  ;  I  shut  my  eyes  ;  I  might 
almost  have  let  myself  starve,  rather  than  have  scenes  of  quarrel 
with  the  man  I  had  loved,  in  which  I  must  accuse  him  of  turning 
my  love  into  a  good  bargain."  There  was  a  slight  tremor  in 
Mrs.  Transome's  voice  in  the  last  words,  and  for  a  moment  she 
paused ;  but  when  she  spoke  again  it  seemed  as  if  the  tremor 
had  frozen  into  a  cutting  icicle.  "  I  suppose  if  a  lover  picked 
one's  pocket,  there 's  no  woman  would  like  to  own  it.  I  don't 
say  I  was  not  afraid  of  you :  I  was  afraid  of  you,  and  I  know 
now  I  was  right." 

"  Mrs.  Transome,"  said  Jermyn,  white  to  the  lips,  "  it  is 
needless  to  say  more.  I  withdraw  any  words  that  have  of- 
fended you." 

"  You  can't  withdraw  them.  Can  a  man  apologize  for  being 
a  dastard  ?  .  .  .  And  I  have  caused  you  to  strain  your  con- 
science, have  I?  —  it  is  I  who  have  sullied  your  purity?  I 
should  think  the  demons  have  more  honor  —  they  are  not  so 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  413 

impudent  to  one  another.  I  would  not  lose  the  misery  of  be- 
ing a  woman,  now  I  see  what  can  be  the  baseness  of  a  man. 
One  must  be  a  man  —  first  to  tell  a  woman  that  her  love  has 
made  her  your  debtor,  and  then  ask  her  to  pay  you  by  breaking 
the  last  poor  threads  between  her  and  her  son." 

"  I  do  not  ask  it,"  said  Jermyn,  with  a  certain  asperity.  He 
was  beginning  to  find  this  intolerable.  The  mere  brute  strength 
of  a  masculine  creature  rebelled.  He  felt  almost  inclined  to 
throttle  the  voice  out  of  this  woman. 

"  You  do  ask  it :  it  is  what  you  would  like.  I  have  had  a 
terror  on  me  lest  evil  should  happen  to  you.  From  the  first, 
after  Harold  came  home,  I  had  a  horrible  dread.  It  seemed 
as  if  murder  might  come  between  you  —  I  did  n't  know  what. 
I  felt  the  horror  of  his  not  knowing  the  truth.  I  might  have 
been  dragged  at  last,  by  my  own  feeling  —  by  my  own  memory 
—  to  tell  him  all,  and  make  him  as  well  as  myself  miserable, 
to  save  you." 

Again  there  was  a  slight  tremor,  as  if  at  the  remembrance  of 
womanly  tenderness  and  pity.  But  immediately  she  launched 
forth  again. 

"  But  now  you  have  asked  me,  I  will  never  tell  him !  Be 
ruined  —  no  —  do  something  more  dastardly  to  save  yourself. 
If  I  sinned,  my  judgment  went  beforehand  —  that  I  should  sin 
for  a  man  like  you." 

Swiftly  upon  those  last  words  Mrs.  Transome  passed  out  of 
the  room.  The  softly  padded  door  closed  behind  her  making 
no  noise,  and  Jermyn  found  himself  alone. 

For  a  brief  space  he  stood  still.  Human  beings  in  moments 
of  passionate  reproach  and  denunciation,  especially  when  their 
anger  is  on  their  own  account,  are  never  so  wholly  in  the  right 
that  the  person  who  has  to  wince  cannot  possibly  protest 
against  some  unreasonableness  or  unfairness  in  their  outburst. 
And  if  Jermyn  had  been  capable  of  feeling  that  he  had  thor- 
oughly merited  this  affliction,  he  would  not  have  uttered  the 
words  that  drew  it  down  on  him.  Men  do  not  become  penitent 
and  learn  to  abhor  themselves  by  having  their  backs  cut  open 
with  the  lash;  rather,  they  learn  to  abhor  the  lash.  What 
Jermyn  felt  about  Mrs.  Transome  when  she  disappeared  was, 


414  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL. 

that  she  was  a  furious  woman  —  who  would  not  do  what  he 
wanted  her  to  do.  And  he  was  supported  as  to  his  justifiable- 
ness  by  the  inward  repetition  of  what  he  had  already  said  to 
her ;  it  was  right  that  Harold  should  know  the  truth.  He  did 
not  take  into  account  (how  should  he  ?)  the  exasperation  and 
loathing  excited  by  his  daring  to  urge  the  plea  of  right.  A 
man  who  had  stolen  the  pyx,  and  got  frightened  when  justice 
was  at  his  heels,  might  feel  the  sort  of  penitence  which  would 
induce  him  to  run  back  in  the  dark  and  lay  the  pyx  where  the 
sexton  might  find  it ;  but  if  in  doing  so  he  whispered  to  the 
Blessed  Virgin  that  he  was  moved  by  considering  the  sacredness 
of  all  property,  and  the  peculiar  sacredness  of  the  pyx,  it  is  not 
to  be  believed  that  she  would  like  him  the  better  for  it.  Indeed, 
one  often  seems  to  see  why  the  saints  should  prefer  candles 
to  words,  especially  from  penitents  whose  skin  is  in  danger. 
Some  salt  of  generosity  would  have  made  Jermyn  conscious 
that  he  had  lost  the  citizenship  which  authorized  him  to  plead 
the  right ;  still  more,  that  his  self-vindication  to  Mrs.  Transome 
would  be  like  the  exhibition  of  a  brand-mark,  and  only  show 
that  he  was  shame-proof.  There  is  heroism  even  in  the  circles 
of  hell  for  fellow-sinners  who  cling  to  each  other  in  the  fiery 
whirlwind  and  never  recriminate.  But  these  things,  which  are 
easy  to  discern  when  they  are  painted  for  us  on  the  large  canvas 
of  poetic  story,  become  confused  and  obscure  even  for  well-read 
gentlemen  when  their  affection  for  themselves  is  alarmed  by 
pressing  details  of  actual  experience.  If  their  comparison  of 
instances  is  active  at  such  times,  it  is  chiefly  in  showing  them 
that  their  own  case  has  subtle  distinctions  from  all  other  cases, 
which  should  free  them  from  unmitigated  condemnation. 

And  it  was  in  this  way  with  Matthew  Jermyn.  So  many 
things  were  more  distinctly  visible  to  him,  and  touched  him 
more  acutely,  than  the  effect  of  his  acts  or  words  on  Mrs.  Tran- 
some's  feelings  !  In  fact  —  he  asked,  with  a  touch  of  some- 
thing that  makes  us  all  akin — was  it  not  preposterous,  this 
excess  of  feeling  on  points  which  he  himself  did  not  find  pow- 
erfully moving  ?  She  had  treated  him  most  unreasonably.  It 
would  have  been  right  for  her  to  do  what  he  had  —  not  asked, 
but  only  hinted  at  in  a  mild  and  interrogatory  manner.  But 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  415 

the  clearest  and  most  unpleasant  result  of  the  interview  was, 
that  this  right  thing  which  he  desired  so  much  would  certainly 
not  be  done  for  him  by  Mrs.  Transome. 

As  he  was  moving  his  arm  from  the  chair-back,  and  turning 
to  take  his  hat,  there  was  a  boisterous  noise  in  the  entrance- 
hall  ;  the  door  of  the  small  drawing-room,  which  had  closed 
without  latching,  was  pushed  open,  and  old  Mr.  Transome 
appeared  with  a  face  of  feeble  delight,  playing  horse  to  little 
Harry,  who  roared  and  flogged  behind  him,  while  Moro  yapped 
in  a  puppy  voice  at  their  heels.  But  when  Mr.  Transome  saw 
Jermyn  in  the  room  he  stood  still  in  the  doorway,  as  if  he  did 
not  know  whether  entrance  were  permissible.  The  majority 
of  his  thoughts  were  but  ravelled  threads  of  the  past.  The 
attorney  came  forward  to  shake  hands  with  due  politeness, 
but  the  old  man  said,  with  a  bewildered  look,  and  in  a  hesi- 
tating way  — 

"  Mr.  Jermyn  ?  —  why  —  why  —  where  is  Mrs.  Transome  ?  " 
Jermyn  smiled  his  way  out  past  the  unexpected  group  ;  and 
little  Harry,  thinking  he  had  an  eligible  opportunity,  turned 
round  to  give  a  parting  stroke  on  the  stranger's  coat-tails. 


CHAPTER  XLIII. 

Whichever  way  my  days  decline, 

I  felt  and  feel,  though  left  alone, 

His  being  working  in  mine  own, 
The  footsteps  of  his  life  in  mine. 

Dear  friend,  far  off,  my  lost  desire 

So  far,  so  near,  in  woe  and  weal ; 

O,  loved  the  most  when  most  I  feel 
There  is  a  lower  and  a  higher  ! 

TENNYSON  :  In  Memariam. 


AFTER  that  morning  on  which  Esther  found  herself  reddened 
and  confused  by  the  sense  of  having  made  a  distant  allusion 
to  Felix  Holt,  she  felt  it  impossible  that  she  should  even,  as 


416  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

she  had  sometimes  intended,  speak  of  him  explicitly  to  Harold, 
in  order  to  discuss  the  probabilities  as  to  the  issue  of  his  trial. 
She  was  certain  she  could  not  do  it  without  betraying  emotion, 
and  there  were  very  complex  reasons  in  Esther's  mind  why 
she  could  not  bear  that  Harold  should  detect  her  sensibility 
on  this  subject.  It  was  not  only  all  the  fibres  of  maidenly 
pride  and  reserve,  of  a  bashf ulness  undefmably  peculiar  towards 
this  man,  who,  while  much  older  than  herself,  and  bearing  the 
stamp  of  an  experience  quite  hidden  from  her  imagination, 
was  taking  strongly  the  aspect  of  a  lover  —  it  was  not  only 
this  exquisite  kind  of  shame  which  was  at  work  within  her : 
there  was  another  sort  of  susceptibility  in  Esther,  which  her 
present  circumstances  tended  to  encourage,  though  she  had 
come  to  regard  it  as  not  at  all  lofty,  but  rather  as  something 
which  condemned  her  to  littleness  in  comparison  with  a  mind 
she  had  learned  to  venerate.  She  knew  quite  well  that,  to 
Harold  Transome,  Felix  Holt  was  one  of  the  common  people 
who  could  come  into  question  in  no  other  than  a  public  light. 
She  had  a  native  capability  for  discerning  that  the  sense  of 
ranks  and  degrees  has  its  repulsions  corresponding  to  the 
repulsions  dependent  on  difference  of  race  and  color  ;  and  she 
remembered  her  own  impressions  too  well  not  to  foresee  that 
it  would  come  on  Harold  Transome  as  a  shock,  if  he  suspected 
there  had  been  any  love-passages  between  her  and  this  young 
man,  who  to  him  was  of  course  no  more  than  any  other  intelli- 
gent member  of  the  working  class.  "  To  him,"  said  Esther  to 
herself,  with  a  reaction  of  her  newer,  better  pride,  "  who  has 
not  had  the  sort  of  intercourse  in  which  Felix  Holt's  cultured 
nature  would  have  asserted  its  superiority."  And  in  her 
fluctuations  on  this  matter,  she  found  herself  mentally  pro- 
testing that,  whatever  Harold  might  think,  there  was  a  light 
in  which  he  was  vulgar  compared  with  Felix.  Felix  had  ideas 
and  motives  which  she  did  not  believe  that  Harold  could 
understand.  More  than  all,  there  was  this  test :  she  herself 
had  no  sense  of  inferiority  and  just  subjection  when  she  was 
with  Harold  Transome;  there  were  even  points  in  him  for 
which  she  felt  a  touch,  not  of  angry,  but  of  playful  scorn ; 
whereas  with  Felix  she  had  always  a  sense  of  dependence  and 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  417 

possible  illumination.  In  those  large,  grave,  candid  gray  eyes 
of  his,  love  seemed  something  that  belonged  to  the  high  en- 
thusiasm of  life,  such  as  might  now  be  forever  shut  out  from 
her. 

All  the  same,  her  vanity  winced  at  the  idea  that  Harold 
should  discern  what,  from  his  point  of  view,  would  seem  like 
a  degradation  of  her  taste  and  refinement.  She  could  not  help 
being  gratified  by  all  the  manifestations  from  those  around 
her  that  she  was  thought  thoroughly  fitted  for  a  high  position 
—  could  not  help  enjoying,  with  more  or  less  keenness,  a 
rehearsal  of  that  demeanor  amongst  luxuries  and  dignities 
which  had  often  been  a  part  of  her  day-dreams,  and  the  re- 
hearsal included  the  reception  of  more  and  more  emphatic 
attentions  from  Harold,  and  of  an  effusiveness  in  his  manners, 
which,  in  proportion  as  it  would  have  been  offensive  if  it  had 
appeared  earlier,  became  nattering  as  the  effect  of  a  growing 
acquaintance  and  daily  contact.  It  comes  in  so  many  forms 
in  this  life  of  ours  —  the  knowledge  that  there  is  something 
sweetest  and  noblest  of  which  we  despair,  and  the  sense  of 
something  present  that  solicits  us  with  an  immediate  and  easy 
indulgence.  And  there  is  a  pernicious  falsity  in  the  pre- 
tence that  a  woman's  love  lies  above  the  range  of  such 
temptations. 

Day  after  day  Esther  had  an  arm  offered  her,  had  very 
beaming  looks  upon  her,  had  opportunities  for  a  great  deal  of 
light,  airy  talk,  in  which  she  knew  herself  to  be  charming, 
and  had  the  attractive  interest  of  noticing  Harold's  practical 
cleverness  —  the  masculine  ease  with  which  he  governed 
everybody  and  administered  everything  about  him,  without 
the  least  harshness,  and  with  a  facile  good-nature  which  yet 
was  not  weak.  In  the  background,  too,  there  was  the  ever- 
present  consideration,  that  if  Harold  Transome  wished  to 
marry  her,  and  she  accepted  him,  the  problem  of  her  lot  would 
be  more  easily  solved  than  in  any  other  way.  It  was  difficult 
by  any  theory  of  Providence,  or  consideration  of  results,  to 
see  a  course  which  she  could  call  duty  :  if  something  would 
come  and  urge  itself  strongly  as  pleasure,  and  save  her  from 
the  effort  to  find  a  clew  of  principle  amid  the  labyrinthine 
VOL,  in.  27 


418  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL. 

confusions  of  right  and  possession,  the  promise  could  not  but 
seem  alluring.  And  yet,  this  life  at  Transome  Court  was  not 
the  life  of  her  day-dreams :  there  was  dulness  already  in  its 
ease,  and  in  the  absence  of  high  demand ;  and  there  was  a 
vague  consciousness  that  the  love  of  this  not  unfascinating 
man  who  hovered  about  her  gave  an  air  of  moral  mediocrity 
to  all  her  prospects.  She  would  not  have  been  able  perhaps 
to  define  this  impression  ;  but  somehow  or  other  by  this  eleva- 
tion of  fortune  it  seemed  that  the  higher  ambition  which  had 
begun  to  spring  in  her  was  forever  nullified.  All  life  seemed 
cheapened  ;  as  it  might  seem  to  a  young  student  who,  having 
believed  that  to  gain  a  certain  degree  he  must  write  a  thesis 
in  which  he  would  bring  his  powers  to  bear  with  memorable 
effect,  suddenly  ascertained  that  no  thesis  was  expected,  but 
the  sum  (in  English  money)  of  twenty-seven  pounds  ten  shil- 
lings and  sixpence. 

After  all,  she  was  a  woman,  and  could  not  make  her  own 
lot.  As  she  had  once  said  to  Felix,  "  A  woman  must  choose 
meaner  things,  because  only  meaner  things  are  offered  to  her." 
Her  lot  is  made  for  her  by  the  love  she  accepts.  And  Esther 
began  to  think  that  her  lot  was  being  made  for  her  by  the 
love  that  was  surrounding  her  with  the  influence  of  a  garden 
on  a  summer  morning. 

Harold,  on  his  side,  was  conscious  that  the  interest  of  his 
wooing  was  not  standing  still.  He  was  beginning  to  think  it 
a  conquest,  in  which  it  would  be  disappointing  to  fail,  even  if 
this  fair  nymph  had  no  claim  to  the  estate.  He  would  have 
liked  —  and  yet  he  would  not  have  liked  —  that  just  a  slight 
shadow  of  doubt  as  to  his  success  should  be  removed.  There 
was  something  about  Esther  that  he  did  not  altogether  under- 
stand. She  was  clearly  a  woman  that  could  be  governed  ;  she 
was  too  charming  for  him  to  fear  that  she  would  ever  be  obsti- 
nate or  interfering.  Yet  there  was  a  lightning  that  shot  out 
of  her  now  and  then,  which  seemed  the  sign  of  a  dangerous 
judgment ;  as  if  she  inwardly  saw  something  more  admirable 
than  Harold  Transome.  Now,  to  be  perfectly  charming,  a 
woman  should  not  see  this. 

One  fine  February  day,  when  already  the  golden  and  purple 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  419 

crocuses  were  out  on  the  terrace  —  one  of  those  flattering  days 
which  sometimes  precede  the  northeast  winds  of  March,  and 
make  believe  that  the  coming  spring  will  be  enjoyable  —  a 
very  striking  group,  of  whom  Esther  and  Harold  made  a  part, 
came  out  at  mid-day  to  walk  upon  the  gravel  at  Transome 
Court.  They  did  not,  as  usual,  go  towards  the  pleasure- 
grounds  on  the  eastern  side,  because  Mr.  Lingon,  who  was  one 
of  them,  was  going  home,  and  his  road  lay  through  the  stone 
gateway  into  the  park. 

Uncle  Lingon,  who  disliked  painful  confidences,  and  pre- 
ferred knowing  "no  mischief  of  anybody,"  had  not  objected 
to  being  let  into  the  important  secret  about  Esther,  and  was 
sure  at  once  that  the  whole  affair,  instead  of  being  a  misfor- 
tune, was  a  piece  of  excellent  luck.  For  himself,  he  did  not 
profess  to  be  a  judge  of  women,  but  she  seemed  to  have  all  the 
"  points,"  and  to  carry  herself  as  well  as  Arabella  did,  which 
was  saying  a  good  deal.  Honest  Jack  Lingon's  first  impres- 
sions quickly  became  traditions,  which  no  subsequent  evidence 
could  disturb.  He  was  fond  of  his  sister,  and  seemed  never 
to  be  conscious  of  any  change  for  the  worse  in  her  since  their 
early  time.  He  considered  that  man  a  beast  who  said  any- 
thing unpleasant  about  the  persons  to  whom  he  was  attached. 
It  was  not  that  he  winked ;  his  wide-open  eyes  saw  nothing 
but  what  his  easy  disposition  inclined  him  to  see.  Harold 
was  a  good  fellow ;  a  clever  chap ;  and  Esther's  peculiar  fit- 
ness for  him,  under  all  the  circumstances,  was  extraordinary : 
it  reminded  him  of  something  in  the  classics,  though  he  could 
n't  think  exactly  what  —  in  fact,  a  memory  was  a  nasty  un- 
easy thing.  Esther  was  always  glad  when  the  old  Rector 
came.  With  an  odd  contrariety  to  her  former  niceties  she 
liked  his  rough  attire  and  careless  frank  speech ;  they  were 
something  not  point  device  that  seemed  to  connect  the  life  of 
Transome  Court  with  that  rougher,  commoner  world  where 
her  home  had  been. 

She  and  Harold  were  walking  a  little  in  advance  of  the  rest 
of  the  party,  who  were  retarded  by  various  causes.  Old  Mr. 
Transome,  wrapped  in  a  cloth  cloak  trimmed  with  sable,  and 
with  a  soft  warm  cap  also  trimmed  with  fur  on  his  head,  had 


420  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

a  shuffling  uncertain  walk.  Little  Harry  was  dragging  a  toy 
vehicle,  on  the  seat  of  which  he  had  insisted  on  tying  Moro, 
with  a  piece  of  scarlet  drapery  round  him,  making  him  look 
like  a  barbaric  prince  in  a  chariot.  Moro,  having  little  imagi- 
nation, objected  to  this,  and  barked  with  feeble  snappishness 
as  the  tyrannous  lad  ran  forward,  then  whirled  the  chariot 
round,  and  ran  back  to  "  Gappa,"  then  came  to  a  dead  stop, 
which  overset  the  chariot,  that  he  might  watch  Uncle  Lingon's 
water-spaniel  run  for  the  hurled  stick  and  bring  it  in  his 
mouth.  Nimrod  kept  close  to  his  old  master's  legs,  glancing 
with  much  indifference  at  this  youthful  ardor  about  sticks  — 
he  had  "  gone  through  all  that ; "  and  Dominic  walked  by,  look- 
ing on  blandly,  and  taking  care  both  of  young  and  old.  Mrs. 
Transome  was  not  there. 

Looking  back  and  seeing  that  they  were  a  good  deal  in  ad- 
vance of  the  rest,  Esther  and  Harold  paused. 

"  What  do  you  think  about  thinning  the  trees  over  there  ?  " 
said  Harold,  pointing  with  his  stick.  "  I  have  a  bit  of  a  no- 
tion that  if  they  were  divided  into  clumps  so  as  to  show  the 
oaks  beyond,  it  would  be  a  great  improvement.  It  would 
give  an  idea  of  extent  that  is  lost  now.  And  there  might  be 
some  very  pretty  clumps  got  out  of  those  mixed  trees.  What 
do  you  think  ?  " 

"  I  should  think  it  would  be  an  improvement.  One  likes  a 
'  beyond '  everywhere.  But  I  never  heard  you  express  your- 
self so  dubiously,"  said  Esther,  looking  at  him  rather  archly : 
"you  generally  see  things  so  clearly,  and  are  so  convinced, 
that  I  shall  begin  to  feel  quite  tottering  if  I  find  you  in  uncer- 
tainty. Pray  don't  begin  to  be  doubtful ;  it  is  so  infectious." 

"  You  think  me  a  great  deal  too  sure  —  too  confident  ? " 
said  Harold. 

"  Not  at  all.  It  is  an  immense  advantage  to  know  your  own 
will,  when  you  always  mean  to  have  it." 

"  But  suppose  I  could  n't  get  it,  in  spite  of  meaning  ?  "  said 
Harold,  with  a  beaming  inquiry  in  his  eyes. 

"  Oh  then,"  said  Esther,  turning  her  head  aside,  carelessly, 
as  if  she  were  considering  the  distant  birch-stems,  "  you  would 
bear  it  quite  easily,  as  you  did  your  not  getting  into  Parlia- 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  421 

ment.  You  would  know  you  could  get  it  another  time  —  or 
get  something  else  as  good." 

"The  fact  is,"  said  Harold,  moving  on  a  little,  as  if  he  did 
not  want  to  be  quite  overtaken  by  the  others,  "  you  consider 
me  a  fat,  fatuous,  self-satisfied  fellow." 

"  Oh,  there  are  degrees,"  said  Esther,  with  a  silvery  laugh ; 
"you  have  just  as  much  of  those  qualities  as  is  becoming. 
There  are  different  styles.  You  are  perfect  in  your  own." 

"  But  you  prefer  another  style,  I  suspect.  A  more  submis- 
sive, tearful,  devout  worshipper,  who  would  offer  his  incense 
with  more  trembling." 

"You  are  quite  mistaken,"  said  Esther,  still  lightly.  "I 
find  I  am  very  wayward.  When  anything  is  offered  to  me,  it 
seems  that  I  prize  it  less,  and  don't  want  to  have  it." 

Here  was  a  very  balking  answer,  but  in  spite  of  it  Harold 
could  not  help  believing  that  Esther  was  very  far  from  object- 
ing to  the  sort  of  incense  he  had  been  offering  just  then. 

"  I  have  often  read  that  that  is  in  human  nature,"  she  went 
on,  "  yet  it  takes  me  by  surprise  in  myself.  I  suppose,"  she 
added,  smiling,  "  I  did  n't  think  of  myself  as  human  nature." 

"I  don't  confess  to  the  same  waywardness,"  said  Harold. 
"  I  am  very  fond  of  things  that  I  can  get.  And  I  never  longed 
much  for  anything  out  of  my  reach.  Whatever  I  feel  sure 
of  getting  I  like  all  the  better.  I  think  half  those  priggish 
maxims  about  human  nature  in  the  lump  are  no  more  to  be 
relied  on  than  universal  remedies.  There  are  different  sorts 
of  human  nature.  Some  are  given  to  discontent  and  longing, 
others  to  securing  and  enjoying.  And  let  me  tell  you,  the  dis- 
contented longing  style  is  unpleasant  to  live  with." 

Harold  nodded  with  a  meaning  smile  at  Esther. 

"  Oh,  I  assure  you  I  have  abjured  all  admiration  for  it,"  she 
said,  smiling  up  at  him  in  return. 

She  was  remembering  the  schooling  Felix  had  given  her 
about  her  Byronic  heroes,  and  was  inwardly  adding  a  third 
sort  of  human  nature  to  those  varieties  which  Harold  had 
mentioned.  He  naturally  supposed  that  he  might  take  the 
abjuration  to  be  entirely  in  his  own  favor.  And  his  face  did 
look  very  pleasant ;  she  could  not  help  liking  him,  although  he 


422  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

was  certainly  too  particular  about  sauces,  gravies,  and  wines, 
and  had  a  way  of  virtually  measuring  the  value  of  every- 
thing by  the  contribution  it  made  to  his  own  pleasure.  His 
very  good-nature  was  unsympathetic  :  it  never  came  from  any 
thorough  understanding  or  deep  respect  for  what  was  in  the 
mind  of  the  person  he  obliged  or  indulged ;  it  was  like  his 
kindness  to  his  mother  —  an  arrangement  of  his  for  the  happi- 
ness of  others,  which,  if  they  were  sensible,  ought  to  succeed. 
And  an  inevitable  comparison  which  haunted  her,  showed  her 
the  same  quality  in  his  political  views  :  the  utmost  enjoyment 
of  his  own  advantages  was  the  solvent  that  blended  pride  in 
his  family  and  position,  with  the  adhesion  to  changes  that 
were  to  obliterate  tradition  and  melt  down  enchased  gold  heir- 
looms into  plating  for  the  egg-spoons  of  "  the  people."  It  is 
terrible  —  the  keen  bright  eye  of  a  woman  when  it  has  once 
been  turned  with  admiration  on  what  is  severely  true ;  but 
then,  the  severely  true  rarely  comes  within  its  range  of  vision. 
Esther  had  had  an  unusual  illumination ;  Harold  did  not  know 
how,  but  he  discerned  enough  of  the  effect  to  make  him  more 
cautious  than  he  had  ever  been  in  his  life  before.  That  cau- 
tion would  have  prevented  him  just  then  from  following  up 
the  question  as  to  the  style  of  person  Esther  would  think 
pleasant  to  live  with,  even  if  Uncle  Lingon  had  not  joined 
them,  as  he  did,  to  talk  about  soughing  tiles  ;  saying  presently 
that  he  should  turn  across  the  grass  and  get  on  to  the  Home 
Farm,  to  have  a  look  at  the  improvements  that  Harold  was 
making  with  such  racing  speed. 

"  But  you  know,  lad,"  said  the  Hector,  as  they  paused  at  the 
expected  parting,  "  you  can't  do  everything  in  a  hurry.  The 
wheat  must  have  time  to  grow,  even  when  you  've  reformed 
all  us  old  Tories  off  the  face  of  the  ground.  Dash  it !  now  the 
election  's  over :  I  'm  an  old  Tory  again.  You  see,  Harold,  a 
Radical  won't  do  for  the  county.  At  another  election,  you 
must  be  on  the  look-out  for  a  borough  where  they  want  a  bit 
of  blood.  I  should  have  liked  you  uncommonly  to  stand  for 
the  county ;  and  a  Radical  of  good  family  squares  well  enough 
with  a  new-fashioned  Tory  like  young  Debarry ;  but  you  see, 
these  riots  —  it 's  been  a  nasty  business.  I  shall  have  my  hair 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  423 

combed  at  the  sessions  for  a  year  to  come.  But,  heyday ! 
What  dame  is  this,  with  a  small  boy  ?  —  not  one  of  my 
parishioners  ?  " 

Harold  and  Esther  turned,  and  saw  an  elderly  woman  ad- 
vancing with  a  tiny  red-haired  boy,  scantily  attired  as  to  his 
jacket,  which  merged  into  a  small  sparrow-tail  a  little  higher 
than  his  waist,  but  muffled  as  to  his  throat  with  a  blue  woollen 
comforter.  Esther  recognized  the  pair  too  well,  and  felt  very 
uncomfortable.  We  are  so  pitiably  in  subjection  to  all  sorts 
of  vanity  —  even  the  very  vanities  we  are  practically  renoun- 
cing !  And  in  spite  of  the  almost  solemn  memories  connected 
with  Mrs.  Holt,  Esther's  first  shudder  was  raised  by  the  idea 
of  what  things  this  woman  would  say,  and  by  the  mortification 
of  having  Felix  in  any  way  represented  by  his  mother. 

As  Mrs.  Holt  advanced  into  closer  observation,  it  became 
more  evident  that  she  was  attired  with  a  view  not  to  charm 
the  eye,  but  rather  to  afflict  it  with  all  that  expression  of  woe 
which  belongs  to  very  rusty  bombazine  and  the  limpest  state 
of  false  hair.  Still,  she  was  not  a  woman  to  lose  the  sense  of 
her  own  value,  or  become  abject  in  her  manners  under  any 
circumstances  of  depression ;  and  she  had  a  peculiar  sense  on 
the  present  occasion  that  she  was  justly  relying  on  the  force 
of  her  own  character  and  judgment,  in  independence  of  any- 
thing that  Mr.  Lyon  or  the  masterful  Felix  would  have  said, 
if  she  had  thought  them  worthy  to  know  of  her  undertaking. 
She  curtsied  once,  as  if  to  the  entire  group,  now  including 
even  the  dogs,  who  showed  various  degrees  of  curiosity,  es- 
pecially as  to  what  kind  of  game  the  smaller  animal  Job 
might  prove  to  be  after  due  investigation ;  and  then  she  pro- 
ceeded at  once  towards  Esther,  who,  in  spite  of  her  annoyance, 
took  her  arm  from  Harold's,  said,  "  How  do  you  do,  Mrs. 
Holt  ? "  very  kindly,  and  stooped  to  pat  little  Job. 

"  Yes  —  you  know  him,  Miss  Lyon,"  said  Mrs.  Holt  in  that 
tone  which  implies  that  the  conversation  is  intended  for  the 
edification  of  the  company  generally ;  "you  know  the  orphin 
child,  as  Felix  brought  home  for  me  that  am  his  mother  to 
take  care  of.  And  it 's  what  I  've  done  —  nobody  more  so  — 
though  it 's  trouble  is  my  reward." 


424  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

Esther  had  raised  herself  again,  to  stand  in  helpless  endur- 
ance of  whatever  might  be  coming.  But  by  this  time  young 
Harry,  struck  even  more  than  the  dogs  by  the  appearance  of 
Job  Tudge,  had  come  round  dragging  his  chariot,  and  placed 
himself  close  to  the  pale  child,  whom  he  exceeded  in  height 
and  breadth,  as  well  as  in  depth  of  coloring.  He  looked  into 
Job's  eyes,  peeped  round  at  the  tail  of  his  jacket  and  pulled 
it  a  little,  and  then,  taking  off  the  tiny  cloth-cap,  observed 
with  much  interest  the  tight  red  curls  which  had  been  hidden 
underneath  it.  Job  looked  at  his  inspector  with  the  round 
blue  eyes  of  astonishment,  until  Harry,  purely  by  way  of  ex- 
periment, took  a  bonbon  from  a  fantastic  wallet  which  hung 
over  his  shoulder,  and  applied  the  test  to  Job's  lips.  The 
result  was  satisfactory  to  both.  Every  one  had  been  watching 
this  small  comedy,  and  when  Job  crunched  the  bonbon  while 
Harry  looked  down  at  him  inquiringly  and  patted  his  back, 
there  was  general  laughter  except  on  the  part  of  Mrs.  Holt, 
who  was  shaking  her  head  slowly,  and  slapping  the  back 
of  her  left  hand  with  the  painful  patience  of  a  tragedian 
whose  part  is  in  abeyance  to  an  ill-timed  introduction  of 
the  humorous. 

"  I  hope  Job's  cough  has  been  better  lately,"  said  Esther, 
in  mere  uncertainty  as  to  what  it  would  be  desirable  to  say 
or  do. 

"  I  dare  say  you  hope  so,  Miss  Lyon,"  said  Mrs  Holt,  look- 
ing at  the  distant  landscape.  "  I  've  no  reason  to  disbelieve 
but  what  you  wish  well  to  the  child,  and  to  Felix,  and  to  me. 
I  'm  sure  nobody  has  any  occasion  to  wish  me  otherways. 
My  character  will  bear  inquiry,  and  what  you,  as  are  young, 
don't  know,  others  can  tell  you.  That  was  what  I  said  to 
myself  when  I  made  up  my  mind  to  come  here  and  see  you, 
and  ask  you  to  get  me  the  freedom  to  speak  to  Mr.  Transome. 
I  said,  whatever  Miss  Lyon  may  be  now,  in  the  way  of  being 
lifted  up  among  great  people,  she 's  our  minister's  daughter, 
and  was  not  above  coming  to  my  house  and  walking  with  my 
son  Felix  —  though  I  '11  not  deny  he  made  that  figure  on  the 
Lord's  Day,  that  '11  perhaps  go  against  him  with  the  judge, 
if  anybody  thinks  well  to  tell  him." 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  425 

Here  Mrs.  Holt  paused  a  moment,  as  with  a  mind  arrested 
by  the  painful  image  it  had  called  up. 

Esther's  face  was  glowing,  when  Harold  glanced  at  her; 
and  seeing  this,  he  was  considerate  enough  to  address  Mrs. 
Holt  instead  of  her. 

"You  are  then  the  mother  of  the  unfortunate  young  man 
who  is  in  prison?" 

"  Indeed  I  am,  sir,"  said  Mrs.  Holt,  feeling  that  she  was 
now  in  deep  water.  "  It 's  not  likely  I  should  claim  him  if 
he  was  n't  my  own ;  though  it 's  not  by  my  will,  nor  my  ad- 
vice, sir,  that  he  ever  walked ;  for  I  gave  him  none  but  good. 
But  if  everybody's  son  was  guided  by  their  mothers,  the 
world  'ud  be  different;  my  son  is  not  worse  than  many  an- 
other woman's  son,  and  that  in  Treby,  whatever  they  may 
say  as  have  n't  got  their  sons  in  prison.  And  as  to  his  giving 
up  the  doctoring,  and  then  stopping  his  father's  medicines, 
I  know  it 's  bad  —  that  I  know  —  but  it 's  me  has  had  to  suf- 
fer, and  it 's  me  a  king  and  Parliament  'ud  consider,  if  they 
meant  to  do  the  right  thing,  and  had  anybody  to  make  it 
known  to  'em.  And  as  for  the  rioting  and  killing  the  con- 
stable—  my  son  said  most  plain  to  me  he  never  meant  it,  and 
there  was  his  bit  of  potato-pie  for  his  dinner  getting  dry  by 
the  fire,  the  whole  blessed  time  as  I  sat  and  never  knew  what 
was  coming  on  me.  And  it 's  my  opinion  as  if  great  people 
make  elections  to  get  themselves  into  Parliament,  and  there  's 
riot  and  murder  to  do  it,  they  ought  to  see  as  the  widow  and 
the  widow's  son  does  n't  suffer  for  it.  I  well  know  my  duty : 
and  I  read  my  Bible ;  and  I  know  in  Jude  where  it 's  been 
stained  with  the  dried  tulip-leaves  this  many  a  year,  as  you  're 
told  not  to  rail  at  your  betters  if  they  was  the  devil  himself ; 
nor  will  I ;  but  this  I  do  say,  if  it 's  three  Mr.  Transomes  in- 
stead of  one  as  is  listening  to  me,  as  there 's  them  ought  to  go 
to  the  king  and  get  him  to  let  off  my  son  Felix." 

This  speech,  in  its  chief  points,  had  been  deliberately  pre- 
pared. Mrs.  Holt  had  set  her  face  like  a  flint,  to  make  the 
gentry  know  their  duty  as  she  knew  hers :  her  defiant  defen- 
sive tone  was  due  to  the  consciousness,  not  only  that  she  was 
braving  a  powerful  audience,  but  that  she  was  daring  to  stand 


426  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

on  the  strong  basis  of  her  own  judgment  in  opposition  to  her 
son's.  Her  proposals  had  been  waived  off  by  Mr.  Lyon  and 
Felix ;  but  she  had  long  had  the  feminine  conviction  that  if 
she  could  "  get  to  speak "  in  the  right  quarter,  things  might 
be  different.  The  daring  bit  of  impromptu  about  the  three 
Mr.  Transomes  was  immediately  suggested  by  a  movement 
of  old  Mr.  Transome  to  the  foreground  in  a  line  with  Mr. 
Lingon  and  Harold ;  his  furred  and  unusual  costume  appear- 
ing to  indicate  a  mysterious  dignity  which  she  must  hasten 
to  include  in  her  appeal. 

And  there  were  reasons  that  none  could  have  foreseen, 
which  made  Mrs.  Holt's  remonstrance  immediately  effective. 
While  old  Mr.  Transome  stared,  very  much  like  a  waxen 
image  in  which  the  expression  is  a  failure,  and  the  Eector, 
accustomed  to  female  parishioners  and  complainants,  looked 
on  with  a  smile  in  his  eyes,  Harold  said  at  once,  with  cordial 
kindness  — 

"  I  think  you  are  quite  right,  Mrs.  Holt.  And  for  my  part, 
I  am  determined  to  do  my  best  for  your  son,  both  in  the  wit- 
ness-box and  elsewhere.  Take  comfort ;  if  it  is  necessary,  the 
king  shall  be  appealed  to.  And  rely  upon  it,  I  shall  bear  you 
in  mind  as  Felix  Holt's  mother." 

Eapid  thoughts  had  convinced  Harold  that  in  this  way  he 
was  best  commending  himself  to  Esther. 

"Well,  sir,"  said  Mrs.  Holt,  who  was  not  going  to  pour 
forth  disproportionate  thanks,  "  I  am  glad  to  hear  you  speak 
so  becoming ;  and  if  you  had  been  the  king  himself,  I  should 
have  made  free  to  tell  you  my  opinion.  For  the  Bible  says, 
the  king's  favor  is  towards  a  wise  servant ;  and  it 's  reasonable 
to  think  he  'd  make  all  the  more  account  of  them  as  have  never 
been  in  service,  or  took  wage,  which  I  never  did,  and  never 
thought  of  my  son  doing ;  and  his  father  left  money,  meaning 
otherways,  so  as  he  might  have  been  a  doctor  on  horseback  at 
this  very  minute,  instead  of  being  in  prison." 

"  What !  was  he  regularly  apprenticed  to  a  doctor  ?  "  said 
Mr.  Lingon,  who  had  not  understood  this  before. 

"  Sir,  he  was,  and  most  clever,  like  his  father  before  him, 
only  he  turned  contrairy.  But  as  for  harming  anybody,  Felix 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  427 

never  meant  to  harm  anybody  but  himself  and  his  mother, 
which  he  certainly  did  in  respect  of  his  clothes,  and  taking  to 
be  a  low  working  man,  and  stopping  my  living  respectable, 
more  particular  by  the  pills,  which  had  a  sale,  as  you  may  be 
sure  they  suited  people's  insides.  And  what  folks  can  never 
have  boxes  enough  of  to  swallow,  I  should  think  you  have  a 
right  to  sell.  And  there  's  many  and  many  a  text  for  it,  as 
I  've  opened  on  without  ever  thinking ;  for  if  it 's  true,  '  Ask, 
and  you  shall  have,'  I  should  think  it 's  truer  when  you  're 
willing  to  pay  for  what  you  have." 

This  was  a  little  too  much  for  Mr.  Lingon's  gravity ;  he 
exploded,  and  Harold  could  not  help  following  him.  Mrs. 
Holt  fixed  her  eyes  on  the  distance,  and  slapped  the  back  of 
her  left  hand  again  :  it  might  be  that  this  kind  of  mirth  was 
the  peculiar  effect  produced  by  forcible  truth  on  high  and 
worldly  people  who  were  neither  in  the  Independent  nor  the 
General  Baptist  connection. 

"  I  'm  sure  you  must  be  tired  with  your  long  walk,  and  little 
Job  too,"  said  Esther,  by  way  of  breaking  this  awkward  scene. 
"  Are  n't  you,  Job  ?  "  she  added,  stooping  to  caress  the  child, 
who  was  timidly  shrinking  from  Harry's  invitation  to  him  to 
pull  the  little  chariot  —  Harry's  view  being  that  Job  would 
make  a  good  horse  for  him  to  beat,  and  would  run  faster  than 
Gappa. 

"  It 's  well  you  can  feel  for  the  orphin  child,  Miss  Lyon,"  said 
Mrs.  Holt,  choosing  an  indirect  answer  rather  than  to  humble 
herself  by  confessing  fatigue  before  gentlemen  who  seemed  to 
be  taking  her  too  lightly.  "  I  did  n't  believe  but  what  you  'd 
behave  pretty,  as  you  always  did  to  me,  though  everybody 
used  to  say  you  held  yourself  high.  But  I'm  sure  you  never 
did  to  Felix,  for  you  let  him  sit  by  you  at  the  Free  School 
before  all  the  town,  and  him  with  never  a  bit  of  stock  round 
his  neck.  And  it  shows  you  saw  that  in  him  worth  taking 
notice  of ;  —  and  it  is  but  right,  if  you  know  my  words  are 
true,  as  you  should  speak  for  him  to  the  gentlemen." 

"I  assure  you,  Mrs.  Holt,"  said  Harold,  coming  to  the 
rescue  —  "I  assure  you  that  enough  has  been  said  to  make 
me  use  my  best  efforts  for  your  son.  And  now,  pray,  go  on 


428  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  KADICAL. 

to  the  house  with  the  little  boy  and  take  some  rest.  Dominic, 
show  Mrs.  Holt  the  way,  and  ask  Mrs.  Hickes  to  make  her 
comfortable,  and  see  that  somebody  takes  her  back  to  Treby 
in  the  buggy." 

"I  will  go  back  with  Mrs.  Holt,"  said  Esther,  making  an 
effort  against  herself. 

"  No,  pray,"  said  Harold,  with  that  kind  of  entreaty  which 
is  really  a  decision.  "  Let  Mrs.  Holt  have  time  to  rest.  We 
shall  have  returned,  and  you  can  see  her  before  she  goes.  We 
will  say  good-by  for  the  present,  Mrs.  Holt." 

The  poor  woman  was  not  sorry  to  have  the  prospect  of  rest 
and  food,  especially  for  "the  orphin  child,"  of  whom  she  was 
tenderly  careful.  Like  many  women  who  appear  to  others  to 
have  a  masculine  decisiveness  of  tone,  and  to  themselves  to 
have  a  masculine  force  of  mind,  and  who  come  into  severe 
collision  with  sons  arrived  at  the  masterful  stage,  she  had  the 
maternal  cord  vibrating  strongly  within  her  towards  all  tiny 
children.  And  when  she  saw  Dominic  pick  up  Job  and  hoist 
him  on  his  arm  for  a  little  while,  by  way  of  making  acquaint- 
ance, she  regarded  him  with  an  approval  which  she  had  not 
thought  it  possible  to  extend  to  a  foreigner.  Since  Dominic 
was  going,  Harry  and  old  Mr.  Transome  chose  to  follow. 
Uncle  Lingon  shook  hands  and  turned  off  across  the  grass, 
and  thus  Esther  was  left  alone  with  Harold. 

But  there  was  a  new  consciousness  between  them.  Harold's 
quick  perception  was  least  likely  to  be  slow  in  seizing  indica- 
tions of  anything  that  might  affect  his  position  with  regard  to 
Esther.  Some  time  before,  his  jealousy  had  been  awakened 
to  the  possibility  that  before  she  had  known  him  she  had  been 
deeply  interested  in  some  one  else.  Jealousy  of  all  sorts  — 
whether  for  our  fortune  or  our  love  —  is  ready  at  combina- 
tions, and  likely  even  to  outstrip  the  fact.  And  Esther's  re- 
newed confusion,  united  with  her  silence  about  Felix,  which 
now  first  seemed  noteworthy,  and  with  Mrs.  Holt's  graphic 
details  as  to  her  walking  with  him  and  letting  him  sit  by  her 
before  all  the  town,  were  grounds  not  merely  for  a  suspicion, 
but  for  a  conclusion  in  Harold's  mind.  The  effect  of  this, 
which  he  at  once  regarded  as  a  discovery,  was  rather  different 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  429 

from  what  Esther  had  anticipated.  It  seemed  to  him  that 
Felix  was  the  least  formidable  person  that  he  could  have 
found  out  as  an  object  of  interest  antecedent  to  himself.  A 
young  workman  who  had  got  himself  thrown  into  prison, 
whatever  recommendations  he  might  have  had  for  a  girl  at  a 
romantic  age  in  the  dreariness  of  Dissenting  society  at  Treby, 
could  hardly  be  considered  by  Harold  in  the  light  of  a  rival. 
Esther  was  too  clever  and  tasteful  a  woman  to  make  a  ballad 
heroine  of  herself,  by  bestowing  her  beauty  and  her  lands  on 
this  lowly  lover.  Besides,  Harold  cherished  the  belief  that,  at 
the  present  time,  Esther  was  more  wisely  disposed  to  bestow 
these  things  on  another  lover  in  every  way  eligible.  But  in 
two  directions  this  discovery  had  a  determining  effect  on  him ; 
his  curiosity  was  stirred  to  know  exactly  what  the  relation 
with  Felix  had  been,  and  he  was  solicitous  that  his  behavior 
with  regard  to  this  young  man  should  be  such  as  to  enhance 
his  own  merit  in  Esther's  eyes.  At  the  same  time  he  was  not 
inclined  to  any  euphemisms  that  would  seem  by  any  possi- 
bility to  bring  Felix  into  the  lists  with  himself. 

Naturally,  when  they  were  left  alone,  it  was  Harold  who 
spoke  first.  "  I  should  think  there  's  a  good  deal  of  worth  in 
this  young  fellow  —  this  Holt,  notwithstanding  the  mistakes 
he  has  made.  A  little  queer  and  conceited,  perhaps ;  but  that 
is  usually  the  case  with  men  of  his  class  when  they  are  at  all 
superior  to  their  fellows." 

"  Felix  Holt  is  a  highly  cultivated  man ;  he  is  not  at  all 
conceited,"  said  Esther.  The  different  kinds  of  pride  within 
her  were  coalescing  now.  She  was  aware  that  there  had  been 
a  betrayal. 

"  Ah  ?  "  said  Harold,  not  quite  liking  the  tone  of  this  answer. 
"This  eccentricity  is  a  sort  of  fanaticism,  then? — this  giving 
up  being  a  doctor  on  horseback,  as  the  old  woman  calls  it,  and 
taking  to  —  let  me  see  —  watchmaking,  is  n't  it  ?  " 

"If  it  is  eccentricity  to  be  very  much  better  than  other 
men,  he  is  certainly  eccentric  ;  and  fanatical  too,  if  it  is  fanati- 
cal to  renounce  all  small  selfish  motives  for  the  sake  of  a  great 
and  unselfish  one.  I  never  knew  what  nobleness  of  character 
really  was  before  I  knew  Felix  Holt." 


430  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

It  seemed  to  Esther  as  if,  in  the  excitement  of  this  moment, 
her  own  words  were  bringing  her  a  clearer  revelation. 

"  God  bless  me ! "  said  Harold,  in  a  tone  of  surprised  yet 
thorough  belief,  and  looking  in  Esther's  face.  "  I  wish  you 
had  talked  to  me  about  this  before." 

Esther  at  that  moment  looked  perfectly  beautiful,  with  an 
expression  which  Harold  had  never  hitherto  seen.  All  the 
confusion  which  had  depended  on  personal  feeling  had  given 
way  before  the  sense  that  she  had  to  speak  the  truth  about 
the  man  whom  she  felt  to  be  admirable. 

"I  think  I  didn't  see  the  meaning  of  anything  fine  —  I 
did  n't  even  see  the  value  of  my  father's  character,  until 
I  had  been  taught  a  little  by  hearing  what  Felix  Holt  said, 
and  seeing  that  his  life  was  like  his  words." 

Harold  looked  and  listened,  and  felt  his  slight  jealousy 
allayed  rather  than  heightened.  "This  is  not  like  love," 
he  said  to  himself,  with  some  satisfaction.  With  all  due 
regard  to  Harold  Transome,  he  was  one  of  those  men  who 
are  liable  to  make  the  greater  mistakes  about  a  particular 
woman's  feelings,  because  they  pique  themselves  on  a  power 
of  interpretation  derived  from  much  experience.  Experience 
is  enlightening,  but  with  a  difference.  Experiments  on  live 
animals  may  go  on  for  a  long  period,  and  yet  the  fauna 
on  which  they  are  made  may  be  limited.  There  may  be  a 
passion  in  the  mind  of  a  woman  which  precipitates  her,  not 
along  the  path  of  easy  beguilement,  but  into  a  great  leap 
away  from  it.  Harold's  experience  had  not  taught  him  this ; 
and  Esther's  enthusiasm  about  Felix  Holt  did  not  seem  to  him 
to  be  dangerous. 

"  He 's  quite  an  apostolic  sort  of  fellow,  then,"  was  the  self- 
quieting  answer  he  gave  to  her  last  words.  "  He  did  n't  look 
like  that ;  but  I  had  only  a  short  interview  with  him,  and  I 
was  given  to  understand  that  he  refused  to  see  me  in  prison. 
I  believe  he 's  not  very  well  inclined  towards  me.  But  you 
saw  a  great  deal  of  him,  I  suppose ;  and  your  testimony  to 
any  one  is  enough  for  me,"  said  Harold,  lowering  his  voice 
rather  tenderly.  "  Now  I  know  what  your  opinion  is,  I  shall 
spare  no  effort  on  behalf  of  such  a  young  man.  In  fact,  I  had 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  KADICAL.  431 

come  to  the  same  resolution  before,  but  your  wish  would  make 
difficult  things  easy." 

After  that  energetic  speech  of  Esther's,  as  often  happens, 
the  tears  had  just  suffused  her  eyes.  It  was  nothing  more 
than  might  have  been  expected  in  a  tender-hearted  woman, 
considering  Felix  Holt's  circumstances,  and  the  tears  only 
made  more  lovely  the  look  with  which  she  met  Harold's 
when  he  spoke  so  kindly.  She  felt  pleased  with  him  ;  she 
was  open  to  the  fallacious  delight  of  being  assured  that  she 
had  power  over  him  to  make  him  do  what  she  liked,  and  quite 
forgot  the  many  impressions  which  had  convinced  her  that 
Harold  had  a  padded  yoke  ready  for  the  neck  of  every  man, 
woman,  and  child  that  depended  on  him. 

After  a  short  silence,  they  were  getting  near  the  stone  gate- 
way, and  Harold  said,  with  an  air  of  intimate  consultation  — 

"  What  could  we  do  for  this  young  man,  supposing  he  were 
let  off  ?  I  shall  send  a  letter  with  fifty  pounds  to  the  old 
woman  to-morrow.  I  ought  to  have  done  it  before,  but  it 
really  slipped  my  memory,  amongst  the  many  things  that 
have  occupied  me  lately.  But  this  young  man  —  what  do  you 
think  would  be  the  best  thing  we  could  do  for  him,  if  he  gets 
at  large  again  ?  He  should  be  put  in  a  position  where  his 
qualities  could  be  more  telling." 

Esther  was  recovering  her  liveliness  a  little,  and  was  dis- 
posed to  encourage  it  for  the  sake  of  veiling  other  feelings, 
about  which  she  felt  renewed  reticence,  now  that  the  over- 
powering influence  of  her  enthusiasm  was  past.  She  was 
rather  wickedly  amused  and  scornful  at  Harold's  misconcep- 
tions and  ill-placed  intentions  of  patronage. 

"You  are  hopelessly  in  the  dark,"  she  said,  with  a  light 
laugh  and  toss  of  her  head.  "  What  would  you  offer  Felix 
Holt  ?  a  place  in  the  Excise  ?  You  might  as  well  think  of 
offering  it  to  John  the  Baptist.  Felix  has  chosen  his  lot.  He 
means  always  to  be  a  poor  man." 

"  Means  ?  Yes,"  said  Harold,  slightly  piqued,  "  but  what 
a  man  means  usually  depends  on  what  happens.  I  mean  to 
be  a  commoner ;  but  a  peerage  might  present  itself  under 
acceptable  circumstances." 


432  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL. 

"  Oh,  there  is  no  sum  in  proportion  to  be  done  there,"  said 
Esther,  again  gayly.  "  As  you  are  to  a  peerage  so  is  not  Felix 
Holt  to  any  offer  of  advantage  that  you  could  imagine  for 
him." 

"  You  must  think  him  fit  for  any  position  —  the  first  in  the 
county." 

"  No,  I  don't,"  said  Esther,  shaking  her  head  mischievously. 
"  I  think  him  too  high  for  it." 

"  I  see  you  can  be  ardent  in  your  admiration." 

"  Yes,  it  is  my  champagne  ;  you  know  I  don't  like  the  other 
kind." 

"That  would  be  satisfactory  if  one  were  sure  of  getting 
your  admiration,"  said  Harold,  leading  her  up  to  the  terrace, 
and  amongst  the  crocuses,  from  whence  they  had  a  fine  view 
of  the  park  and  river.  They  stood  still  near  the  east  parapet, 
and  saw  the  dash  of  light  on  the  water,  and  the  pencilled 
shadows  of  the  trees  on  the  grassy  lawn. 

"Would  it  do  as  well  to  admire  you,  instead  of  being  worthy 
to  be  admired  ?  "  said  Harold,  turning  his  eyes  from  that  land- 
scape to  Esther's  face. 

"  It  would  be  a  thing  to  be  put  up  with,"  said  Esther,  smil- 
ing at  him  rather  roguishly.  "  But  you  are  not  in  that  state 
of  self-despair." 

"  Well,  I  am  conscious  of  not  having  those  severe  virtues 
that  you  have  been  praising." 

"  That  is  true.     You  are  quite  in  another  genre." 

"  A  woman  would  not  find  me  a  tragic  hero." 

"Oh  no!  She  must  dress  for  genteel  comedy  —  such  as 
your  mother  once  described  to  me  —  where  the  most  thrilling 
event  is  the  drawing  of  a  handsome  check." 

"  You  are  a  naughty  fairy,"  said  Harold,  daring  to  press 
Esther's  hand  a  little  more  closely  to  him,  and  drawing  her 
down  the  eastern  steps  into  the  pleasure-ground,  as  if  he  were 
unwilling  to  give  up  the  conversation.  "Confess  that  you 
are  disgusted  with  my  want  of  romance." 

"  I  shall  not  confess  to  being  disgusted.  I  shall  ask  you  to 
confess  that  you  are  not  a  romantic  figure." 

"  I  am  a  little  too  stout." 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  433 

"  For  romance  —  yes.  At  least  you  must  find  security  for 
not  getting  stouter." 

"  And  I  don't  look  languishing  enough  ?  " 

"  Oh  yes  —  rather  too  much  so  —  at  a  fine  cigar." 

"  And  I  am  not  in  danger  of  committing  suicide  ?  " 

"  No  ;  you  are  a  widower." 

Harold  did  not  reply  immediately  to  this  last  thrust  of 
Esther's.  She  had  uttered  it  with  innocent  thoughtlessness 
from  the  playful  suggestions  of  the  moment ;  but  it  was  a  fact 
that  Harold's  previous  married  life  had  entered  strongly  into 
her  impressions  about  him.  The  presence  of  Harry  made  it 
inevitable.  Harold  took  this  allusion  of  Esther's  as  an  indi- 
cation that  his  quality  of  widower  was  a  point  that  made 
against  him ;  and  after  a  brief  silence  he  said,  in  an  altered, 
more  serious  tone  — 

"  You  don't  suppose,  I  hope,  that  any  other  woman  has  ever 
held  the  place  that  you  could  hold  in  my  life  ?  " 

Esther  began  to  tremble  a  little,  as  she  always  did  when 
the  love-talk  between  them  seemed  getting  serious.  She  only 
gave  the  rather  stumbling  answer,  "  How  so  ?  " 

"Harry's  mother  had  been  a  slave  —  was  bought,  in  fact." 

It  was  impossible  for  Harold  to  preconceive  the  effect  this 
had  on  Esther.  His  natural  disqualification  for  judging  of  a 
girl's  feelings  was  heightened  by  the  blinding  effect  of  an  ex- 
clusive object  —  which  was  to  assure  her  that  her  own  place 
was  peculiar  and  supreme.  Hitherto  Esther's  acquaintance 
with  Oriental  love  was  derived  chiefly  from  Byronic  poems, 
and  this  had  not  sufficed  to  adjust  her  mind  to  a  new  story, 
where  the  Giaour  concerned  was  giving  her  his  arm.  She  was 
unable  to  speak  ;  and  Harold  went  on  — 

"Though  I  am  close  on  thirty-five,  I  never  met  with  a 
woman  at  all  like  you  before.  There  are  new  eras  in  one's 
life  that  are  equivalent  to  youth  —  are  something  better  than 
youth.  I  was  never  an  aspirant  till  I  knew  you." 

Esther  was  still  silent. 

"  Not  that  I  dare  to  call  myself  that.     I  am  not  so  confident 
a  personage  as  you  imagine.     I  am  necessarily  in  a  painful 
position  for  a  man  who  has  any  feeling." 
VOL.  in.  28 


434  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL. 

Here  at  last  Harold  had  stirred  the  right  fibre.  Esther's 
generosity  seized  at  once  the  whole  meaning  implied  in  that 
last  sentence.  She  had  a  fine  sensibility  to  the  line  at  which 
flirtation  must  cease ;  and  she  was  now  pale,  and  shaken  with 
feelings  she  had  not  yet  defined  for  herself. 

"  Do  not  let  us  speak  of  difficult  things  any  more  now,"  she 
said,  with  gentle  seriousness.  "  I  am  come  into  a  new  world 
of  late,  and  have  to  learn  life  all  over  again.  Let  us  go  in. 
I  must  see  poor  Mrs.  Holt  again,  and  my  little  friend  Job." 

She  paused  at  the  glass  door  that  opened  on  the  terrace, 
and  entered  there,  while  Harold  went  round  to  the  stables. 

When  Esther  had  been  up-stairs  and  descended  again  into 
the  large  entrance-hall,  she  found  its  stony  spaciousness  made 
lively  by  human  figures  extremely  unlike  the  statues.  Since 
Harry  insisted  on  playing  with  Job  again,  Mrs.  Holt  and  her 
orphan,  after  dining,  had  just  been  brought  to  this  delightful 
scene  for  a  game  at  hide-and-seek,  and  for  exhibiting  the 
climbing  powers  of  the  two  pet  squirrels.  Mrs.  Holt  sat  on 
a  stool,  in  singular  relief  against  the  pedestal  of  the  Apollo, 
while  Dominic  and  Denner  (otherwise  Mrs.  Hickes)  bore  her 
company ;  Harry,  in  his  bright  red  and  purple,  flitted  about 
like  a  great  tropic  bird  after  the  sparrow-tailed  Job,  who  hid 
himself  with  much  intelligence  behind  the  scagliola  pillars  and 
the  pedestals ;  while  one  of  the  squirrels  perched  itself  on  the 
head  of  the  tallest  statue,  and  the  other  was  already  peeping 
down  from  among  the  heavy  stuccoed  angels  on  the  ceiling, 
near  the  summit  of  a  pillar. 

Mrs.  Holt  held  on  her  lap  a  basket  filled  with  good  things 
for  Job,  and  seemed  much  soothed  by  pleasant  company  and 
excellent  treatment.  As  Esther,  descending  softly  and  un- 
observed, leaned  over  the  stone  bannisters  and  looked  at  the 
scene  for  a  minute  or  two,  she  saw  that  Mrs.  Holt's  attention, 
having  been  directed  to  the  squirrel  which  had  scampered  on 
to  the  head  of  the  Silenus  carrying  the  infant  Bacchus,  had 
been  drawn  downward  to  the  tiny  babe  looked  at  with  so 
much  affection  by  the  rather  ugly  and  hairy  gentleman,  of 
whom  she  nevertheless  spoke  with  reserve  as  of  one  who 
possibly  belonged  to  the  Transome  family. 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  435 

"  It 's  most  pretty  to  see  its  little  limbs,  and  the  gentleman 
holding  it.  I  should  think  he  was  amiable  by  his  look;  but 
it  was  odd  he  should  have  his  likeness  took  without  any 
clothes.  Was  he  Transome  by  name  ? "  (Mrs.  Holt  sus- 
pected that  there  might  be  a  mild  madness  in  the  family.) 

Denner,  peering  and  smiling  quietly,  was  about  to  reply, 
when  she  was  prevented  by  the  appearance  of  old  Mr.  Tran- 
some, who  since  his  walk  had  been  having  "  forty  winks  "  on 
the  sofa  in  the  library,  and  now  came  out  to  look  for  Harry. 
He  had  doffed  his  fur  cap  and  cloak,  but  in  lying  down  to 
sleep  he  had  thrown  over  his  shoulders  a  soft  Oriental  scarf 
which  Harold  had  given  him,  and  this  still  hung  over  his 
scanty  white  hair  and  down  to  his  knees,  held  fast  by  his 
wooden-looking  arms  and  laxly  clasped  hands,  which  fell  in 
front  of  him. 

This  singular  appearance  of  an  undoubted  Transome  fitted 
exactly  into  Mrs.  Holt's  thought  at  the  moment.  It  lay  in  the 
probabilities  of  things  that  gentry's  intellects  should  be  pecul- 
iar :  since  they  had  not  to  get  their  own  living,  the  good  Lord 
might  have  economized  in  their  case  that  common-sense  which 
others  were  so  much  more  in  need  of ;  and  in  the  shuffling 
figure  before  her  she  saw  a  descendant  of  the  gentleman  who 
had  chosen  to  be  represented  without  his  clothes  —  all  the 
more  eccentric  where  there  were  the  means  of  buying  the 
best.  But  these  oddities  "said  nothing"  in  great  folks, 
who  were  powerful  in  high  quarters  all  the  same.  And 
Mrs.  Holt  rose  and  curtsied  with  a  proud  respect,  precisely 
as  she  would  have  done  if  Mr.  Transome  had  looked  as  wise  as 
Lord  Burleigh. 

"  I  hope  I  'm  in  no  way  taking  a  liberty,  sir,"  she  began, 
while  the  old  gentleman  looked  at  her  with  bland  feebleness ; 
"  I  'm  not  that  woman  to  sit  anywhere  out  of  my  own  home 
without  inviting  and  pressing  too.  But  I  was  brought  here 
to  wait,  because  the  little  gentleman  wanted  to  play  with  the 
orphin  child." 

"Very  glad,  my  good  woman  —  sit  down  —  sit  down,"  said 
Mr.  Transome,  nodding  and  smiling  between  his  clauses. 
"Nice  little  boy.  Your  grandchild?" 


436  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL. 

"Indeed,  sir,  no,"  said  Mrs.  Holt,  continuing  to  stand. 
Quite  apart  from  any  awe  of  Mr.  Transome  —  sitting  down, 
she  felt,  would  be  a  too  great  familiarity  with  her  own  pa- 
thetic importance  on  this  extra  and  unlooked-for  occasion. 
"  It 's  not  me  has  any  grandchild,  nor  ever  shall  have,  though 
most  fit.  But  with  my  only  son  saying  he  '11  never  be  married, 
and  in  prison  besides,  and  some  saying  he  '11  be  transported, 
you  may  see  yourself — though  a  gentleman  —  as  there  isn't 
much  chance  of  my  having  grandchildren  of  my  own.  And 
this  is  old  Master  Tudge's  grandchild,  as  my  own  Felix  took 
to  for  pity  because  he  was  sickly  and  clemm'd,  and  I  was  no- 
ways against  it,  being  of  a  tender  heart.  For  I  'm  a  widow 
myself,  and  my  son  Felix,  though  big,  is  fatherless,  and  I 
know  my  duty  in  consequence.  And  it 's  to  be  wished,  sir,  as 
others  should  know  it  as  are  more  in  power  and  live  in  great 
houses,  and  can  ride  in  a  carriage  where  they  will.  And  if 
you're  the  gentleman  as  is  the  head  of  everything  —  and  it's 
not  to  be  thought  you  'd  give  up  to  your  son  as  a  poor  widow 's 
been  forced  to  do  —  it  behoves  you  to  take  the  part  of  them  as 
are  deserving  ;  for  the  Bible  says,  gray  hairs  should  speak." 

"  Yes,  yes  —  poor  woman  —  what  shall  I  say  ?  "  said  old 
Mr.  Transome,  feeling  himself  scolded,  and  as  usual  desirous 
of  mollifying  displeasure. 

"  Sir,  I  can  tell  you  what  to  say  fast  enough ;  for  it 's  what 
I  should  say  myself  if  I  could  get  to  speak  to  the  king.  For 
I  Jve  asked  them  that  know,  and  they  say  it 's  the  truth  both 
out  of  the  Bible  and  in,  as  the  king  can  pardon  anything  and 
anybody.  And  judging  by  his  countenance  on  the  new  signs, 
and  the  talk  there  was  a  while  ago  about  his  being  the  people's 
friend,  as  the  minister  once  said  it  from  the  very  pulpit  —  if 
there 's  any  meaning  in  words,  he  '11  do  the  right  thing  by  me 
and  my  son,  if  he  's  asked  proper." 

"  Yes  —  a  very  good  man  —  he  '11  do  anything  right,"  said 
Mr.  Transome,  whose  own  ideas  about  the  king  just  then  were 
somewhat  misty,  consisting  chiefly  in  broken  reminiscences 
of  George  the  Third.  "  I  '11  ask  him  anything  you  like,"  he 
added,  with  a  pressing  desire  to  satisfy  Mrs.  Holt,  who  alarmed 
him  slightly. 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  437 

"  Then,  sir,  if  you  '11  go  in  your  carriage  and  say,  This  young 
man,  Felix  Holt  by  name,  as  his  father  was  known  the  country 
round,  and  his  mother  most  respectable  —  he  never  meant 
harm  to  anybody,  and  so  far  from  bloody  murder  and  fighting, 
would  part  with  his  victual  to  them  that  needed  it  more  — 
and  if  you'd  get  other  gentlemen  to  say  the  same,  and  if 
they're  not  satisfied  to  inquire  —  I'll  not  believe  but  what 
the  king  'ud  let  my  son  out  of  prison.  Or  if  it 's  true  he  must 
stand  his  trial,  the  king  'ud  take  care  no  mischief  happened  to 
him.  I  've  got  my  senses,  and  I  '11  never  believe  as  in  a  coun- 
try where  there  's  a  God  above  and  a  king  below,  the  right 
thing  can't  be  done  if  great  people  was  willing  to  do  it." 

Mrs.  Holt,  like  all  orators,  had  waxed  louder  and  more  ener- 
getic, ceasing  to  propel  her  arguments,  and  being  propelled  by 
them.  Poor  old  Mr.  Transonic,  getting  more  and  more  fright- 
ened at  this  severe-spoken  woman,  who  had  the  horrible  pos- 
sibility to  his  mind  of  being  a  novelty  that  was  to  become 
permanent,  seemed  to  be  fascinated  by  fear,  and  stood  help- 
lessly forgetful  that  if  he  liked  he  might  turn  round  and  walk 
away. 

Little  Harry,  alive  to  anything  that  had  relation  to  "  Gappa," 
had  paused  in  his  game,  and,  discerning  what  he  thought  a 
hostile  aspect  in  this  naughty  black  old  woman,  rushed  to- 
wards her  and  proceeded  first  to  beat  her  with  his  mimic 
jockey's  whip,  and  then,  suspecting  that  her  bombazine  was 
not  sensitive,  to  set  his  teeth  in  her  arm.  While  Dominic 
rebuked  him  and  pulled  him  off,  Nimrod  began  to  bark  anx- 
iously, and  the  scene  was  become  alarming  even  to  the 
squirrels,  which  scrambled  as  far  off  as  possible. 

Esther,  who  had  been  waiting  for  an  opportunity  of  inter- 
vention, now  came  up  to  Mrs.  Holt,  to  speak  some  soothing 
words ;  and  old  Mr.  Transome,  seeing  a  sufficient  screen  be- 
tween himself  and  his  formidable  suppliant,  at  last  gathered 
courage  to  turn  round  and  shuffle  away  with  unusual  swiftness 
into  the  library. 

"  Dear  Mrs.  Holt,"  said  Esther,  "  do  rest  comforted.  I  as- 
sure you,  you  have  done  the  utmost  that  can  be  done  by  your 
words.  Your  visit  has  not  been  thrown  away.  See  how  the 


438  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

children  have  enjoyed  it !  I  saw  little  Job  actually  laughing. 
I  think  I  never  saw  him  do  more  than  smile  before."  Then 
turning  round  to  Dominic,  she  said,  "Will  the  buggy  come 
round  to  this  door  ?" 

This  hint  was  sufficient.  Dominic  went  to  see  if  the  vehicle 
was  ready,  and  Denner,  remarking  that  Mrs.  Holt  would  like 
to  mount  it  in  the  inner  court,  invited  her  to  go  back  into  the 
housekeeper's  room.  But  there  was  a  fresh  resistance  raised 
in  Harry  by  the  threatened  departure  of  Job,  who  had  seemed 
an  invaluable  addition  to  the  menagerie  of  tamed  creatures ; 
and  it  was  barely  in  time  that  Esther  had  the  relief  of  seeing 
the  entrance-hall  cleared  so  as  to  prevent  any  further  encoun- 
ter of  Mrs.  Holt  with  Harold,  who  was  now  coming  up  the 
flight  of  steps  at  the  entrance. 


CHAPTER  XLIV. 

I  'm  sick  at  heart.    The  eye  of  day, 
The  insistent  summer  noon,  seems  pitiless, 
Shining  in  all  the  barren  crevices 
Of  weary  life,  leaving  no  shade,  no  dark, 
Where  I  may  dream  that  hidden  waters  lie. 

SHORTLY  after  Mrs.  Holt's  striking  presentation  of  herself 
at  Transome  Court,  Esther  went  on  a  second  visit  to  her 
father.  The  Loamford  Assizes  were  approaching ;  it  was  ex- 
pected that  in  about  ten  days  Felix  Holt's  trial  would  come 
on,  and  some  hints  in  her  father's  letters  had  given  Esther  the 
impression  that  he  was  taking  a  melancholy  view  of  the  result. 
Harold  Transome  had  once  or  twice  mentioned  the  subject 
with  a  facile  hopefulness  as  to  "  the  young  fellow 's  coming 
off  easily,"  which,  in  her  anxious  mind,  was  not  a  counterpoise 
to  disquieting  suggestions,  and  she  had  not  chosen  to  introduce 
another  conversation  about  Felix  Holt,  by  questioning  Harold 
concerning  the  probabilities  he  relied  on.  Since  those  mo- 
ments on  the  terrace,  Harold  had  daily  become  more  of  the 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  439 

solicitous  and  indirectly  beseeching  lover ;  and  Esther,  from 
the  very  fact  that  she  was  weighed  on  by  thoughts  that  were 
painfully  bewildering  to  her  —  by  thoughts  which,  in  their 
newness  to  her  young  mind,  seemed  to  shake  her  belief  that 
life  could  be  anything  else  than  a  compromise  with  things 
repugnant  to  the  moral  taste  —  had  become  more  passive  to 
his  attentions  at  the  very  time  that  she  had  begun  to  feel 
more  profoundly  that  in  accepting  Harold  Transome  she  left 
the  high  mountain  air,  the  passionate  serenity  of  perfect  love 
forever  behind  her,  and  must  adjust  her  wishes  to  a  life  of 
middling  delights,  overhung  with  the  languorous  haziness  of 
motiveless  ease,  where  poetry  was  only  literature,  and  the  fine 
ideas  had  to  be  taken  down  from  the  shelves  of  the  library 
when  her  husband's  back  was  turned.  But  it  seemed  as  if  all 
outward  conditions  concurred,  along  with  her  generous  sym- 
pathy for  the  Transomes,  and  with  those  native  tendencies 
against  which  she  had  once  begun  to  struggle,  to  make  this 
middling  lot  the  best  she  could  attain  to.  She  was  in  this 
half-sad  half-satisfied  resignation  to  something  like  what  is 
called  worldly  wisdom,  when  she  went  to  see  her  father,  and 
learn  what  she  could  from  him  about  Felix. 

The  little  minister  was  much  depressed,  unable  to  resign 
himself  to  the  dread  which  had  begun  to  haunt  him,  that  Felix 
might  have  to  endure  the  odious  penalty  of  transportation  for 
the  manslaughter,  which  was  the  offence  that  no  evidence  in 
his  favor  could  disprove. 

"  I  had  been  encouraged  by  the  assurances  of  men  instructed 
in  this  regard,"  said  Mr.  Lyon,  while  Esther  sat  on  the  stool 
near  him,  and  listened  anxiously,  "  that  though  he  were  pro- 
nounced guilty  in  regard  to  this  deed  whereinto  he  hath  calami- 
tously fallen,  yet  that  a  judge  mildly  disposed,  and  with  a 
due  sense  of  that  invisible  activity  of  the  soul  whereby  the 
deeds  which  are  the  same  in  outward  appearance  and  effect, 
yet  differ  as  the  knife-stroke  of  the  surgeon,  even  though  it 
kill,  differs  from  the  knife-stroke  of  a  wanton  mutilator,  might 
use  his  discretion  in  tempering  the  punishment,  so  that  it 
would  not  be  very  evil  to  bear.  But  now  it  is  said  that  the 
judge  who  cometh  is  a  severe  man,  and  one  nourishing  a 


440  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

prejudice  against  the  bolder  spirits  who  stand  not  in  the  old 
paths." 

"  I  am  going  to  be  present  at  the  trial,  father,"  said  Esther, 
who  was  preparing  the  way  to  express  a  wish,  which  she  was 
timid  about  even  with  her  father.  "I  mentioned  to  Mrs. 
Transome  that  I  should  like  to  do  so,  and  she  said  that  she 
used  in  old  days  always  to  attend  the  assizes,  and  that  she 
would  take  me.  You  will  be  there,  father  ?  " 

"  Assuredly  I  shall  be  there,  having  been  summoned  to  bear 
witness  to  Felix's  character,  and  to  his  having  uttered  remon- 
strances and  warnings  long  beforehand  whereby  he  proved 
himself  an  enemy  to  riot.  In  our  ears,  who  know  him,  it 
sounds  strangely  that  aught  else  should  be  credible;  but  he 
hath  few  to  speak  for  him,  though  I  trust  that  Mr.  Harold 
Transome's  testimony  will  go  far,  if,  as  you  say,  he  is  disposed 
to  set  aside  all  minor  regards,  and  not  to  speak  the  truth 
grudgingly  and  reluctantly.  For  the  very  truth  hath  a  color 
from  the  disposition  of  the  utterer." 

"  He  is  kind ;  he  is  capable  of  being  generous,"  said  Esther. 

"  It  is  well.  For  I  verily  believe  that  evil-minded  men  have 
been  at  work  against  Felix.  The  '  Duffield  Watchman '  hath 
written  continually  in  allusion  to  him  as  one  of  those  mis- 
chievous men  who  seek  to  elevate  themselves  through  the 
dishonor  of  their  party  ;  and  as  one  of  those  who  go  not  heart 
and  soul  with  the  needs  of  the  people,  but  seek  only  to  get  a 
hearing  for  themselves  by  raising  their  voices  in  crotchety  dis- 
cord. It  is  these  things  that  cause  me  heaviness  of  spirit :  the 
dark  secret  of  this  young  man's  lot  is  a  cross  I  carry  daily." 

"  Father,"  said  Esther,  timidly,  while  the  eyes  of  both  were 
filling  with  tears,  "  I  should  like  to  see  him  again  before  his 
trial.  Might  I  ?  Will  you  ask  him  ?  Will  you  take  me  ?  " 

The  minister  raised  his  siTffused  eyes  to  hers,  and  did  not 
speak  for  a  moment  or  two.  A  new  thought  had  visited  him. 
But  his  delicate  tenderness  shrank  even  from  an  inward  in- 
quiry that  was  too  curious  —  that  seemed  like  an  effort  to  peep 
at  sacred  secrets. 

"  I  see  nought  against  it,  my  dear  child,  if  you  arrived  early 
enough,  and  would  take  the  elderly  lady  into  your  confidence, 


FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL.  441 

so  that  you  might  descend  from  the  carriage  at  some  suitable 
place  —  the  house  of  the  Independent  minister,  for  example  — 
where  I  could  meet  and  accompany  you.  I  would  forewarn 
Felix,  who  would  doubtless  delight  to  see  your  face  again  ;  see- 
ing that  he  may  go  away,  and  be,  as  it  were,  buried  from  you, 
even  though  it  may  be  only  in  prison,  and  not  —  " 

This  was  too  much  for  Esther.  She  threw  her  arms  round 
her  father's  neck  and  sobbed  like  a  child.  It  was  an  unspeak- 
able relief  to  her  after  all  the  pent-up  stifling  experience,  all 
the  inward  incommunicable  debate  of  the  last  few  weeks. 
The  old  man  was  deeply  moved  too,  and  held  his  arm  close 
round  the  dear  child,  praying  silently. 

No  word  was  spoken  for  some  minutes,  till  Esther  raised 
herself,  dried  her  eyes,  and  with  an  action  that  seemed  playful, 
though  there  was  no  smile  on  her  face,  pressed  her  handker- 
chief against  her  father's  cheeks.  Then,  when  she  had  put 
her  hand  in  his,  he  said,  solemnly  — 

"  'T  is  a  great  and  mysterious  gift,  this  clinging  of  the  heart, 
my  Esther,  whereby  it  hath  often  seemed  to  me  that  even  in 
the  very  moment  of  suffering  our  souls  have  the  keenest  fore- 
taste of  heaven.  I  speak  not  lightly,  but  as  one  who  hath 
endured.  And  't  is  a  strange  truth  that  only  in  the  agony  of 
parting  we  look  into  the  depths  of  love." 

So  the  interview  ended,  without  any  question  from  Mr.  Lyon 
concerning  what  Esther  contemplated  as  the  ultimate  arrange- 
ment between  herself  and  the  Transomes. 

After  this  conversation,  which  showed  him  that  what  hap- 
pened to  Felix  touched  Esther  more  closely  than  he  had  sup- 
posed, the  minister  felt  no  impulse  to  raise  the  images  of  a 
future  so  unlike  anything  that  Felix  would  share.  And  Esther 
would  have  been  unable  to  answer  any  such  questions.  The 
successive  weeks,  instead  of  bringing  her  nearer  to  clearness 
and  decision,  had  only  brought  that  state  of  disenchantment 
belonging  to  the  actual  presence  of  things  which  have  long 
dwelt  in  the  imagination  with  all  the  factitious  charms  of 
arbitrary  arrangement.  Her  imaginary  mansion  had  not  been 
inhabited  just  as  Transome  Court  was  ;  her  imaginary  fortune 
had  not  been  attended  with  circumstances  which  she  was 


442  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL. 

unable  to  sweep  away.  She  herself,  in  her  Utopia,  had  never 
been  what  she  was  now  —  a  woman  whose  heart  was  divided 
and  oppressed.  The  first  spontaneous  offering  of  her  woman's 
devotion,  the  first  great  inspiration  of  her  life,  was  a  sort  of 
vanished  ecstasy  which  had  left  its  wounds.  It  seemed  to  her 
a  cruel  misfortune  of  her  young  life  that  her  best  feeling,  her 
most  precious  dependence,  had  been  called  forth  just  where  the 
conditions  were  hardest,  and  that  all  the  easy  invitations  of 
circumstance  were  towards  something  which  that  previous  con- 
secration of  her  longing  had  made  a  moral  descent  for  her. 
It  was  characteristic  of  her  that  she  scarcely  at  all  entertained 
the  alternative  of  such  a  compromise  as  would  have  given  her 
the  larger  portion  of  the  fortune  to  which  she  had  a  legal 
claim,  and  yet  have  satisfied  her  sympathy  by  leaving  the 
Transomes  in  possession  of  their  old  home.  Her  domestica- 
tion with  this  family  had  brought  them  into  the  foreground 
of  her  imagination ;  the  gradual  wooing  of  Harold  had  acted 
on  her  with  a  constant  immediate  influence  that  predominated 
over  all  indefinite  prospects  ;  and  a  solitary  elevation  to  wealth, 
which  out  of  Utopia  she  had  no  notion  how  she  should  man- 
age, looked  as  chill  and  dreary  as  the  offer  of  dignities  in  an 
unknown  country. 

In  the  ages  since  Adam's  marriage,  it  has  been  good  for 
some  men  to  be  alone,  and  for  some  women  also.  But  Esther 
was  not  one  of  these  women :  she  was  intensely  of  the  femi- 
nine type,  verging  neither  towards  the  saint  nor  the  angel. 
She  was  "  a  fair  divided  excellence,  whose  fulness  of  perfec- 
tion" must  be  in  marriage.  And,  like  all  youthful  creatures, 
she  felt  as  if  the  present  conditions  of  choice  were  final.  It 
belonged  to  the  freshness  of  her  heart  that,  having  had  her 
emotions  strongly  stirred  by  real  objects,  she  never  speculated 
on  possible  relations  yet  to  come.  It  seemed  to  her  that  she 
stood  at  the  first  and  last  parting  of  the  ways.  And,  in  one 
sense,  she  was  under  no  illusion.  It  is  only  in  that  fresh- 
ness of  our  time  that  the  choice  is  possible  which  gives  unity 
to  life,  and  makes  the  memory  a  temple  where  all  relics  and 
all  votive  offerings,  all  worship  and  all  grateful  joy,  are  an 
unbroken  history  sanctified  by  one  religion. 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  443 


CHAPTER  XLV. 

We  may  not  make  this  world  a  paradise 
By  walking  it  together  with  clasped  hands 
And  eyes  that  meeting  feed  a  double  strength. 
We  must  be  only  joined  by  pains  divine, 
Of  spirits  blent  in  mutual  memories. 

IT  was  a  consequence  of  that  interview  with  her  father, 
that  when  Esther  stepped  early  on  a  gray  March  morning  into 
the  carriage  with  Mrs.  Transome,  to  go  to  the  Loamford  As- 
sizes, she  was  full  of  an  expectation  that  held  her  lips  in 
trembling  silence,  and  gave  her  eyes  that  sightless  beauty 
which  tells  that  the  vision  is  all  within. 

Mrs.  Transome  did  not  disturb  her  with  unnecessary  speech. 
Of  late,  Esther's  anxious  observation  had  been  drawn  to  a 
change  in  Mrs.  Transome,  shown  in  many  small  ways  which 
only  women  notice.  It  was  not  only  that  when  they  sat  to- 
gether the  talk  seemed  more  of  an  effort  to  her :  that  might 
have  come  from  the  gradual  draining  away  of  matter  for  dis- 
course pertaining  to  most  sorts  of  companionship,  in  which 
repetition  is  not  felt  to  be  as  desirable  as  novelty.  But  while 
Mrs.  Transome  was  dressed  just  as  usual,  took  her  seat  as 
usual,  trifled  with  her  drugs  and  had  her  embroidery  before 
her  as  usual,  and  still  made  her  morning  greetings  with  that 
finished  easy  politeness  and  consideration  of  tone  which  to 
rougher  people  seems  like  affection,  Esther  noticed  a  strange 
fitfulness  in  her  movements.  Sometimes  the  stitches  of  her 
embroidery  went  on  with  silent  unbroken  swiftness  for  a  quar- 
ter of  an  hour,  as  if  she  had  to  work  out  her  deliverance  from 
bondage  by  finishing  a  scroll-patterned  border ;  then  her  hands 
dropped  suddenly  and  her  gaze  fell  blankly  on  the  table  be- 
fore her,  and  she  would  sit  in  that  way  motionless  as  a  seated 
Btatue,  apparently  unconscious  of  Esther's  presence,  till  some 
thought  darting  within  her  seemed  to  have  the  effect  of  an 


444  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL. 

external  shock  and  rouse  her  with  a  start,  when  she  looked 
round  hastily  like  a  person  ashamed  of  having  slept.  Esther, 
touched  with  wondering  pity  at  signs  of  unhappiuess  that  were 
new  in  her  experience,  took  the  most  delicate  care  to  appear 
inobservant,  and  only  tried  to  increase  the  gentle  attention 
that  might  help  to  soothe  or  gratify  this  uneasy  woman.  But, 
one  morning,  Mrs.  Transome  had  said,  breaking  rather  a  long 
silence  — 

"  My  dear,  I  shall  make  this  house  dull  for  you.  You  sit 
with  me  like  an  embodied  patience.  I  am  unendurable ;  I  am 
getting  into  a  melancholy  dotage.  A  fidgety  old  woman  like 
me  is  as  unpleasant  to  see  as  a  rook  with  its  wing  broken. 
Don't  mind  me,  my  dear.  Kun  away  from  me  without  cere- 
mony. Every  one  else  does,  you  see.  I  am  part  of  the  old 
furniture  with  new  drapery." 

"  Dear  Mrs.  Transome,"  said  Esther,  gliding  to  the  low  otto- 
man close  by  the  basket  of  embroidery,  "  do  you  dislike  my 
sitting  with  you?" 

"  Only  for  your  own  sake,  my  fairy,"  said  Mrs.  Transome, 
smiling  faintly,  and  putting  her  hand  under  Esther's  chin. 
"  Does  n't  it  make  you  shudder  to  look  at  me  ?  " 

"  Why  will  you  say  such  naughty  things  ? "  said  Esther, 
affectionately.  "  If  you  had  had  a  daughter,  she  would  have 
desired  to  be  with  you  most  when  you  most  wanted  cheering. 
And  surely  every  young  woman  has  something  of  a  daughter's 
feeling  towards  an  older  one  who  has  been  kind  to  her." 

"I  should  like  you  to  be  really  my  daughter,"  said  Mrs. 
Transome,  rousing  herself  to  look  a  little  brighter.  "  That  is 
something  still  for  an  old  woman  to  hope  for." 

Esther  blushed :  she  had  not  foreseen  this  application  of 
words  that  came  from  pitying  tenderness.  To  divert  the  train 
of  thought  as  quickly  as  possible,  she  at  once  asked  what  she 
had  previously  had  in  her  mind  to  ask.  Before  her  blush 
had  disappeared  she  said  — 

"  Oh,  you  are  so  good ;  I  shall  ask  you  to  indulge  me  very 
much.  It  is  to  let  us  set  out  very  early  to  Loamford  on 
Wednesday,  and  put  me  down  at  a  particular  house,  that  I 
may  keep  an  engagement  with  my  father.  It  is  a  private 


FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL.  445 

matter,  that  I  wish  no  one  to  know  about,  if  possible.  And 
he  will  bring  me  back  to  you  wherever  you  appoint." 

In  that  way  Esther  won  her  end  without  needing  to  betray 
it;  and  as  Harold  was  already  away  at  Loamford,  she  was 
the  more  secure. 

The  Independent  minister's  house  at  which  she  was  set 
down,  and  where  she  was  received  by  her  father,  was  in  a 
quiet  street  not  far  from  the  jail.  Esther  had  thrown  a  dark 
cloak  over  the  handsomer  coverings  which  Denner  had  assured 
her  were  absolutely  required  of  ladies  who  sat  anywhere  near 
the  judge  at  a  great  trial ;  and  as  the  bonnet  of  that  day  did 
not  throw  the  face  into  high  relief,  but  rather  into  perspec- 
tive, a  veil  drawn  down  gave  her  a  sufficiently  inconspicuous 
appearance. 

"I  have  arranged  all  things,  my  dear,"  said  Mr.  Lyon,  "and 
Felix  expects  us.  We  will  lose  no  time." 

They  walked  away  at  once,  Esther  not  asking  a  question. 
She  had  no  consciousness  of  the  road  along  which  they  passed; 
she  could  never  remember  anything  but  a  dim  sense  of  enter- 
ing within  high  walls  and  going  along  passages,  till  they  were 
ushered  into  a  larger  space  than  she  expected,  and  her  father 
said  — 

"  It  is  here  that  we  are  permitted  to  see  Felix,  my  Esther. 
He  will  presently  appear." 

Esther  automatically  took  off  her  gloves  and  bonnet,  as  if 
she  had  entered  the  house  after  a  walk.  She  had  lost  the 
complete  consciousness  of  everything  except  that  she  was 
going  to  see  Felix.  She  trembled.  It  seemed  to  her  as  if 
he  too  would  look  altered  after  her  new  life  —  as  if  even  the 
past  would  change  for  her  and  be  no  longer  a  steadfast  re- 
membrance, but  something  she  had  been  mistaken  about,  as 
she  had  been  about  the  new  life.  Perhaps  she  was  growing 
out  of  that  childhood  to  which  common  things  have  rareness, 
and  all  objects  look  larger.  Perhaps  from  henceforth  the 
whole  world  was  to  be  meaner  for  her.  The  dread  concen- 
trated in  those  moments  seemed  worse  than  anything  she  had 
known  before.  It  was  what  the  dread  of  the  pilgrim  might 
be  who  has  it  whispered  to  him  that  the  holy  places  are  a 


446  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

delusion,  or  that  lie  will  see  them  with  a  soul  unstirred  and 
unbelieving.  Every  minute  that  passes  may  be  charged  with 
some  such  crisis  in  the  little  inner  world  of  man  or  woman. 

But  soon  the  door  opened  slightly ;  some  one  looked  in ; 
then  it  opened  wide,  and  Felix  Holt  entered. 

"  Miss  Lyon  —  Esther  ! "  and  her  hand  was  in  his  grasp. 

He  was  just  the  same  —  no,  something  inexpressibly  better, 
because  of  the  distance  and  separation,  and  the  half-weary 
novelties,  which  made  him  like  the  return  of  morning. 

"  Take  no  heed  of  me,  children,"  said  Mr.  Lyon.  "  I  have 
some  notes  to  make,  and  my  time  is  precious.  "We  may  re- 
main here  only  a  quarter  of  an  hour."  And  the  old  man  sat 
down  at  a  window  with  his  back  to  them,  writing  with  his 
head  bent  close  to  the  paper. 

"  You  are  very  pale ;  you  look  ill,  compared  with  your  old 
self,"  said  Esther.  She  had  taken  her  hand  away,  but  they 
stood  still  near  each  other,  she  looking  up  at  him. 

"  The  fact  is,  I  'm  not  fond  of  prison,"  said  Felix,  smiling ; 
"  but  I  suppose  the  best  I  can  hope  for  is  to  have  a  good  deal 
more  of  it." 

"  It  is  thought  that  in  the  worst  case  a  pardon  may  be  ob- 
tained," said  Esther,  avoiding  Harold  Transome's  name. 

"  I  don't  rely  on  that,"  said  Felix,  shaking  his  head.  "  My 
wisest  course  is  to  make  up  my  mind  to  the  very  ugliest 
penalty  they  can  condemn  me  to.  If  I  can  face  that,  any- 
thing less  will  seem  easy.  But  you  know,"  he  went  on,  smil- 
ing at  her  brightly,  "  I  never  went  in  for  fine  company  and 
cushions.  I  can't  be  very  heavily  disappointed  in  that  way." 

"  Do  you  see  things  just  as  you  used  to  do  ?  "  said  Esther, 
turning  pale  as  she  said  it  —  "I  mean — about  poverty,  and  the 
people  you  will  live  among.  Has  all  the  misunderstanding 
and  sadness  left  you  just  as  obstinate  ?  "  She  tried  to  smile, 
but  could  not  succeed. 

"  What  —  about  the  sort  of  life  I  should  lead  if  I  were  free 
again  ?  "  said  Felix. 

"  Yes.  I  can't  help  being  discouraged  for  you  by  all  these 
things  that  have  happened.  See  how  you  may  fail ! "  Esther 
spoke  timidly.  She  saw  a  peculiar  smile,  which  she  knew 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  447 

well,  gathering  in  his  eyes.  "  Ah,  I  dare  say  I  am  silly,"  she 
said,  deprecatingly. 

"  No,  you  are  dreadfully  inspired,"  said  Felix.  "  When  the 
wicked  Tempter  is  tired  of  snarling  that  word  failure  in  a 
man's  cell,  he  sends  a  voice  like  a  thrush  to  say  it  for  him. 
See  now  what  a  messenger  of  darkness  you  are  ! "  He  smiled, 
and  took  her  two  hands  between  his,  pressed  together  as  chil- 
dren hold  them  up  in  prayer.  Both  of  them  felt  too  solemnly 
to  be  bashful.  They  looked  straight  into  each  other's  eyes, 
as  angels  do  when  they  tell  some  truth.  And  they  stood  in 
that  way  while  he  went  on  speaking. 

"  But  I  'm  proof  against  that  word  failure.  I  've  seen  be- 
hind it.  The  only  failure  a  man  ought  to  fear  is  failure  in 
cleaving  to  the  purpose  he  sees  to  be  best.  As  to  just  the 
amount  of  result  he  may  see  from  his  particular  work  —  that 's 
a  tremendous  uncertainty :  the  universe  has  not  been  arranged 
for  the  gratification  of  his  feelings.  As  long  as  a  man  sees 
and  believes  in  some  great  good,  he  '11  prefer  working  towards 
that  in  the  way  he's  best  fit  for,  come  what  may.  I  put 
effects  at  their  minimum,  but  I  'd  rather  have  the  minimum 
of  effect,  if  it 's  of  the  sort  I  care  for,  than  the  maximum  of 
effect  I  don't  care  for  —  a  lot  of  fine  things  that  are  not  to 
my  taste  —  and  if  they  were,  the  conditions  of  holding  them 
while  the  world  is  what  it  is,  are  such  as  would  jar  on  me  like 
grating  metal." 

"  Yes,"  said  Esther,  in  a  low  tone,  "  I  think  I  understand 
that  now,  better  than  I  used  to  do."  The  words  of  Felix  at 
last  seemed  strangely  to  fit  her  own  experience.  But  she 
said  no  more,  though  he  seemed  to  wait  for  it  a  moment  or 
two,  looking  at  her.  But  then  he  went  on  — 

"  I  don't  mean  to  be  illustrious,  you  know,  and  make  a  new 
era,  else  it  would  be  kind  of  you  to  get  a  raven  and  teach 
it  to  croak  '  failure '  in  my  ears.  Where  great  things  can't 
happen,  I  care  for  very  small  things,  such  as  will  never  be 
known  beyond  a  few  garrets  and  workshops.  And  then,  as  to 
one  thing  I  believe  in,  I  don't  think  I  can  altogether  fail.  If 
there  's  anything  our  people  want  convincing  of,  it  is,  that 
there  's  some  dignity  and  happiness  for  a  man  other  than 


448  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

changing  his  station.  That 's  one  of  the  beliefs  I  choose  to 
consecrate  my  life  to.  If  anybody  could  demonstrate  to  me 
that  I  was  a  flat  for  it,  I  should  n't  think  it  would  follow 
that  I  must  borrow  money  to  set  up  genteelly  and  order 
new  clothes.  That 's  not  a  rigorous  consequence  to  my 
understanding." 

They  smiled  at  each  other,  with  the  old  sense  of  amusement 
they  had  so  often  had  together. 

"  You  are  just  the  same,"  said  Esther. 

"  And  you  ?  "  said  Felix.  "  My  affairs  have  been  settled 
long  ago.  But  yours  —  a  great  change  has  come  in  them  -— 
magic  at  work." 

"  Yes,"  said  Esther,  rather  falteringly. 

"  Well,"  said  Felix,  looking  at  her  gravely  again,  "  it 's  a 
case  of  fitness  that  seems  to  give  a  chance  sanction  to  that 
musty  law.  The  first  time  I  saw  you  your  birth  was  an  im- 
mense puzzle  to  me.  However,  the  appropriate  conditions  are 
come  at  last." 

These  words  seemed  cruel  to  Esther.  But  Felix  could  not 
know  all  the  reasons  for  their  seeming  so.  She  could  not 
speak  ;  she  was  turning  cold  and  feeling  her  heart  beat 
painfully. 

"  All  your  tastes  are  gratified  now,"  he  went  on  innocently. 
"  But  you  '11  remember  the  old  pedagogue  and  his  lectures  ?  " 

One  thought  in  the  mind  of  Felix  was,  that  Esther  was  sure 
to  marry  Harold  Transome.  Men  readily  believe  these  things 
of  the  women  who  love  them.  But  he  could  not  allude  to  the 
marriage  more  directly.  He  was  afraid  of  this  destiny  for 
her,  without  having  any  very  distinct  knowledge  by  which  to 
justify  his  fear  to  the  mind  of  another.  It  did  not  satisfy  him 
that  Esther  should  marry  Harold  Transome. 

"  My  children,"  said  Mr.  Lyon  at  this  moment,  not  looking 
round,  but  only  looking  close  at  his  watch,  "  we  have  just  two 
minutes  more."  Then  he  went  on  writing. 

Esther  did  not  speak,  but  Felix  could  not  help  observing 
now  that  her  hands  had  turned  to  a  deathly  coldness,  and  that 
she  was  trembling.  He  believed,  he  knew,  that  whatever 
prospects  she  had,  this  feeling  was  for  his  sake.  An  over- 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  449 

powering  impulse  from  mingled  love,  gratitude,  and  anxiety, 
urged  him  to  say  — 

"I  had  a  horrible  struggle,  Esther.  But  you  see  I  was 
right.  There  was  a  fitting  lot  in  reserve  for  you.  But  remem- 
ber you  have  cost  a  great  price  —  don't  throw  what  is  precious 
away.  I  shall  want  the  news  that  you  have  a  happiness  worthy 
of  you." 

Esther  felt  too  miserable  for  tears  to  come.  She  looked 
helplessly  at  Felix  for  a  moment,  then  took  her  hands  from 
his,  and,  turning  away  mutely,  walked  dreamily  towards  her 
father,  and  said,  "Father,  I  am  ready  —  there  is  no  more 
to  say." 

She  turned  back  again,  towards  the  chair  where  her  bonnet 
lay,  with  a  face  quite  corpse-like  above  her  dark  garment. 

"  Esther ! " 

She  heard  Felix  say  the  word,  with  an  entreating  cry,  and 
went  towards  him  with  the  swift  movement  of  a  frightened 
child  towards  its  protector.  He  clasped  her,  and  they  kissed 
each  other. 

She  never  could  recall  anything  else  that  happened,  till  she 
was  in  the  carriage  again  with  Mrs.  Transome. 


CHAPTER  XLVI. 

Why,  there  are  maidens  of  heroic  touch, 
And  yet  they  seem  like  things  of  gossamer 
You  'd  pinch  the  life  out  of,  as  out  of  moths. 
Oh,  it  is  not  loud  tones  and  mouthingness, 
'T  is  not  the  arms  akimbo  and  large  strides, 
That  make  a  woman's  force.     The  tiniest  birds, 
With  softest  downy  breasts,  have  passions  in  them, 
And  are  brave  with  love. 

ESTHER  was  so  placed  in  the  Court,  under  Mrs.  Transome's 
wing,  as  to  see  and  hear  everything  without  effort.      Harold 
had  received  them  at  the  hotel,  and  had  observed  that  Esther 
VOL.  in.  29 


450  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL. 

looked  ill,  and  was  unusually  abstracted  in  her  manner ;  but 
this  seemed  to  be  sufficiently  accounted  for  by  her  sympathetic 
axniety  about  the  result  of  a  trial  in  which  the  prisoner  at  the 
bar  was  a  friend,  and  in  which  both  her  father  and  himself 
were  important  witnesses.  Mrs.  Transome  had  no  reluctance 
to  keep  a  small  secret  from  her  son,  and  no  betrayal  was  made 
of  that  previous  "  engagement "  of  Esther's  with  her  father. 
Harold  was  particularly  delicate  and  unobtrusive  in  his  atten- 
tions to-day :  he  had  the  consciousness  that  he  was  going  to 
behave  in  a  way  that  would  gratify  Esther  and  win  her  admi- 
ration, and  we  are  all  of  us  made  more  graceful  by  the  inward 
presence  of  what  we  believe  to  be  a  generous  purpose;  our 
actions  move  to  a  hidden  music  —  "a  melody  that 's  sweetly 
played  in  tune." 

If  Esther  had  been  less  absorbed  by  supreme  feelings,  she 
would  have  been  aware  that  she  was  an  object  of  special  notice. 
In  the  bare  squareness  of  a  public  hall,  where  there  was  not 
one  jutting  angle  to  hang  a  guess  or  a  thought  upon,  not  an 
image  or  a  bit  of  color  to  stir  the  fancy,  and  where  the  only 
objects  of  speculation,  of  admiration,  or  of  any  interest  what- 
ever, were  human  beings,  and  especially  the  human  beings 
that  occupied  positions  indicating  some  importance,  the  notice 
bestowed  on  Esther  would  not  have  been  surprising,  even  if 
it  had  been  merely  a  tribute  to  her  youthful  charm,  which  was 
well  companioned  by  Mrs.  Transome's  elderly  majesty.  But 
it  was  due  also  to  whisperings  that  she  was  an  hereditary 
claimant  of  the  Transome  estates,  whom  Harold  Transome 
was  about  to  marry.  Harold  himself  had  of  late  not  cared  to 
conceal  either  the  fact  or  the  probability :  they  both  tended 
rather  to  his  honor  than  his  dishonor.  And  to-day,  when 
there  was  a  good  proportion  of  Trebiaus  present,  the  whisper- 
ings spread  rapidly. 

The  Court  was  still  more  crowded  than  on  the  previous  day, 
when  our  poor  acquaintance  Dredge  and  his  two  collier  com- 
panions were  sentenced  to  a  year's  imprisonment  with  hard 
labor,  and  the  more  enlightened  prisoner,  who  stole  the  De- 
barrys'  plate,  to  transportation  for  life.  Poor  Dredge  had 
cried,  had  wished  he  'd  "  never  heared  of  a  'lection,"  and  in 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  451 

spite  of  sermons  from  the  jail  chaplain,  fell  back  on  the  ex- 
planation that  this  was  a  world  in  which  Spratt  and  Old  Nick 
were  sure  to  get  the  best  of  it ;  so  that  in  Dredge's  case,  at 
least,  most  observers  must  have  had  the  melancholy  conviction 
that  there  had  been  no  enhancement  of  public  spirit  and  faith 
in  progress  from  that  wave  of  political  agitation  which  had 
reached  the  Sproxton  Pits. 

But  curiosity  was  necessarily  at  a  higher  pitch  to-day,  when 
the  character  of  the  prisoner  and  the  circumstances  of  his 
offence  were  of  a  highly  unusual  kind.  As  soon  as  Felix  ap- 
peared at  the  bar,  a  murmur  rose  and  spread  into  a  loud  buzz, 
which  continued  until  there  had  been  repeated  authoritative 
calls  for  silence  in  the  Court.  Rather  singularly,  it  was  now 
for  the  first  time  that  Esther  had  a  feeling  of  pride  in  him  on 
the  ground  simply  of  his  appearance.  At  this  moment,  when 
he  was  the  centre  of  a  multitudinous  gaze,  which  seemed  to 
act  on  her  own  vision  like  a  broad  unmitigated  daylight,  she 
felt  that  there  was  something  pre-eminent  in  him,  notwith- 
standing the  vicinity  of  numerous  gentlemen.  No  apple- 
woman  would  have  admired  him  ;  not  only  to  feminine  minds 
like  Mrs.  Tiliot's,  but  to  many  minds  in  coat  and  waistcoat, 
there  was  something  dangerous  and  perhaps  unprincipled  in 
his  bare  throat  and  great  Gothic  head ;  and  his  somewhat 
massive  person  would  doubtless  have  come  out  very  oddly 
from  the  hands  of  a  fashionable  tailor  of  that  time.  But  as 
Esther  saw  his  large  gray  eyes  looking  round  calmly  and  un- 
defiantly,  first  at  the  audience  generally,  and  then  with  a  more 
observant  expression  at  the  lawyers  and  other  persons  imme- 
diately around  him,  she  felt  that  he  bore  the  outward  stamp 
of  a  distinguished  nature.  Forgive  her  if  she  needed  this 
satisfaction:  all  of  us — whether  men  or  women  —  are  liable 
to  this  weakness  of  liking  to  have  our  preference  justified 
before  others  as  well  as  ourselves.  Esther  said  inwardly,  with 
a  certain  triumph,  that  Felix  Holt  looked  as  worthy  to  be 
chosen  in  the  midst  of  this  large  assembly,  as  he  had  ever 
looked  in  their  tete-a-tete  under  the  sombre  light  of  the  little 
parlor  in  Malthouse  Yard. 

Esther  had  felt  some  relief  in  hearing  from  her  father  that 


452  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

Felix  had  insisted  on  doing  without  his  mother's  presence ; 
and  since  to  Mrs.  Holt's  imagination,  notwithstanding  her 
general  desire  to  have  her  character  inquired  into,  there  was 
no  greatly  consolatory  difference  between  being  a  witness  and 
a  criminal,  and  an  appearance  of  any  kind  "  before  the  judge  " 
could  hardly  be  made  to  suggest  anything  definite  that  would 
overcome  the  dim  sense  of  unalleviated  disgrace,  she  had  been 
less  inclined  than  usual  to  complain  of  her  son's  decision. 
Esther  had  shuddered  beforehand  at  the  inevitable  farce  there 
would  be  in  Mrs.  Holt's  testimony.  But  surely  Felix  would 
lose  something  for  want  of  a  witness  who  could  testify  to  his 
behavior  in  the  morning  before  he  became  involved  in  the 
tumult  ? 

"He  is  really  a  fine  young  fellow,"  said  Harold,  coming  to 
speak  to  Esther  after  a  colloquy  with  the  prisoner's  solici- 
tor. "  I  hope  he  will  not  make  a  blunder  in  defending 
himself." 

"  He  is  not  likely  to  make  a  blunder,"  said  Esther.  She 
had  recovered  her  color  a  little,  and  was  brighter  than  she  had 
been  all  the  morning  before. 

Felix  had  seemed  to  include  her  in  his  general  glance,  but 
had  avoided  looking  at  her  particularly.  She  understood  how 
delicate  feeling  for  her  would  prevent  this,  and  that  she  might 
safely  look  at  him,  and  towards  her  father,  whom  she  could 
see  in  the  same  direction.  Turning  to  Harold,  to  make  an 
observation,  she  saw  that  he  was  looking  towards  the  same 
point,  but  with  an  expression  on  his  face  that  surprised  her. 

"  Dear  me,"  she  said,  prompted  to  speak  without  any  reflec- 
tion ;  "  how  angry  you  look  !  I  never  saw  you  look  so  angry 
before.  It  is  not  my  father  you  are  looking  at  ?  " 

"  Oh  no !  I  am  angry  at  something  I  'm  looking  away  from," 
said  Harold,  making  an  effort  to  drive  back  the  troublesome 
demon  who  would  stare  out  at  window.  "  It 's  that  Jermyn," 
he  added,  glancing  at  his  mother  as  well  as  Esther.  "  He  will 
thrust  himself  under  my  eyes  everywhere  since  I  refused  him 
an  interview  and  returned  his  letter.  I  'm  determined  never 
to  speak  to  him  directly  again,  if  I  can  help  it." 

Mrs.  Transome  heard  with  a  changeless  face.      She  had  for 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  453 

some  time  been  watching,  and  had  taken  on  her  marble  look  of 
immobility.  She  said  an  inward  bitter  "  Of  course !  "  to  every- 
thing that  was  unpleasant. 

After  this  Esther  soon  became  impatient  of  all  speech :  her 
attention  was  riveted  on  the  proceedings  of  the  Court,  and  on 
the  mode  in  which  Felix  bore  himself.  In  the  case  for  the 
prosecution  there  was  nothing  more  than  a  reproduction,  with 
irrelevancies  added  by  witnesses,  of  the  facts  already  known 
to  us.  Spratt  had  retained  consciousness  enough,  in  the  midst 
of  his  terror,  to  swear  that,  when  he  was  tied  to  the  finger- 
post, Felix  was  presiding  over  the  actions  of  the  mob.  The 
landlady  of  the  Seven  Stars,  who  was  indebted  to  Felix  for 
rescue  from  pursuit  by  some  drunken  rioters,  gave  evidence 
that  went  to  prove  his  assumption  of  leadership  prior  to  the 
assault  on  Spratt,  —  remembering  only  that  he  had  called  away 
her  pursuers  to  "  better  sport."  Various  respectable  witnesses 
swore  to  Felix's  "  encouragement "  of  the  rioters  who  were 
dragging  Spratt  in  King  Street ;  to  his  fatal  assault  on  Tucker ; 
and  to  his  attitude  in  front  of  the  drawing-room  window  at 
the  Manor. 

Three  other  witnesses  gave  evidence  of  expressions  used  by 
the  prisoner,  tending  to  show  the  character  of  the  acts  with 
which  he  was  charged.  Two  were  Treby  tradesmen,  the  third 
was  a  clerk  from  Duffield.  The  clerk  had  heard  Felix  speak 
at  Duffield  ;  the  Treby  men  had  frequently  heard  him  declare 
himself  on  public  matters  ;  and  they  all  quoted  expressions 
which  tended  to  show  that  he  had  a  virulent  feeling  against 
the  respectable  shopkeeping  class,  and  that  nothing  was  likely 
to  be  more  congenial  to  him  than  the  gutting  of  retailers' 
shops.  No  one  else  knew  —  the  witnesses  themselves  did  not 
know  fully  —  how  far  their  strong  perception  and  memory  on 
these  points  was  due  to  a  fourth  mind,  namely,  that  of  Mr.  John 
Johnson,  the  attorney,  who  was  nearly  related  to  one  of  the 
Treby  witnesses,  and  a  familiar  acquaintance  of  the  Duffield 
clerk.  Man  cannot  be  defined  as  an  evidence-giving  animal ; 
and  in  the  difficulty  of  getting  up  evidence  on  any  subject, 
there  is  room  for  much  unrecognized  action  of  diligent  persons 
who  have  the  extra  stimulus  of  some  private  motive.  Mr. 


454  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  KADICAL. 

Johnson  was  present  in  Court  to-day,  but  in  a  modest,  retired 
situation.  He  had  come  down  to  give  information  to  Mr. 
Jermyn,  and  to  gather  information  in  other  quarters,  which 
was  well  illuminated  by  the  appearance  of  Esther  in  company 
with  the  Transomes. 

When  the  case  for  the  prosecution  closed,  all  strangers 
thought  that  it  looked  very  black  for  the  prisoner.  In  two 
instances  only  Felix  had  chosen  to  put  a  cross-examining  ques- 
tion. The  first  was  to  ask  Spratt  if  he  did  not  believe  that 
his  having  been  tied  to  the  post  had  saved  him  from  a  probably 
mortal  injury?  The  second  was  to  ask  the  tradesman  who 
swore  to  his  having  heard  Felix  tell  the  rioters  to  leave  Tucker 
alone  and  come  along  with  him,  whether  he  had  not,  shortly 
before,  heard  cries  among  the  mob  summoning  to  an  attack  on 
the  wine-vaults  and  brewery. 

Esther  had  hitherto  listened  closely  but  calmly.  She  knew 
that  there  would  be  this  strong  adverse  testimony  ;  and  all  her 
hopes  and  fears  were  bent  on  what  was  to  come  beyond  it.  It 
was  when  the  prisoner  was  asked  what  he  had  to  adduce  in 
reply  that  she  felt  herself  in  the  grasp  of  that  tremor  which 
does  not  disable  the  mind,  but  rather  gives  keener  conscious- 
ness of  a  mind  having  a  penalty  of  body  attached  to  it. 

There  was  a  silence  as  of  night  when  Felix  Holt  began  to 
speak.  His  voice  was  firm  and  clear :  he  spoke  with  simple 
gravity,  and  evidently  without  any  enjoyment  of  the  occasion. 
Esther  had  never  seen  his  face  look  so  weary. 

"  My  Lord,  I  am  not  going  to  occupy  the  time  of  the  Court 
with  unnecessary  words.  I  believe  the  witnesses  for  the  pros- 
ecution have  spoken  the  truth  as  far  as  a  superficial  obser- 
vation would  enable  them  to  do  it ;  and  I  see  nothing  that 
can  weigh  with  the  jury  in  my  favor,  unless  they  believe  my 
statement  of  my  own  motives,  and  the  testimony  that  certain 
witnesses  will  give  to  my  character  and  purposes  as  being  in- 
consistent with  my  willingly  abetting  disorder.  I  will  tell  the 
Court  in  as  few  words  as  I  can,  how  I  got  entangled  in  the 
mob,  how  I  came  to  attack  the  constable,  and  how  I  was  led  to 
take  a  course  which  seems  rather  mad  to  myself,  now  I  look 
back  upon  it." 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  455 

Felix  then  gave  a  concise  narrative  of  his  motives  and  con- 
duct on  the  day  of  the  riot,  from  the  moment  when  he  was 
startled  into  quitting  his  work  by  the  earlier  uproar  of  the 
morning.  He  omitted,  of  course,  his  visit  to  Malthouse  Yard, 
and  merely  said  that  he  went  out  to  walk  again  after  returning 
to  quiet  his  mother's  mind.  He  got  warmed  by  the  story  of 
his  experience,  which  moved  him  more  strongly  than  ever, 
now  he  recalled  it  in  vibrating  words  before  a  large  audience 
of  his  fellow-men.  The  sublime  delight  of  truthful  speech  to 
one  who  has  the  great  gift  of  uttering  it,  will  make  itself  felt 
even  through  the  pangs  of  sorrow. 

"  That  is  all  I  have  to  say  for  myself,  my  Lord.  I  pleaded 
'  Not  guilty '  to  the  charge  of  Manslaughter,  because  I  know 
that  word  may  carry  a  meaning  which  would  not  fairly  apply 
to  my  act.  When  I  threw  Tucker  down,  I  did  not  see  the 
possibility  that  he  would  die  from  a  sort  of  attack  which  ordi- 
narily occurs  in  fighting  without  any  fatal  effect.  As  to  my 
assaulting  a  constable,  it  was  a  quick  choice  between  two 
evils  :  I  should  else  have  been  disabled.  And  he  attacked  me 
under  a  mistake  about  my  intentions.  I'm  not  prepared  to 
say  I  never  would  assault  a  constable  where  I  had  more  chance 
of  deliberation.  I  certainly  should  assault  him  if  I  saw  him 
doing  anything  that  made  my  blood  boil :  I  reverence  the  law, 
but  not  where  it  is  a  pretext  for  wrong,  which  it  should  be  the 
very  object  of  law  to  hinder.  I  consider  that  I  should  be  mak- 
ing an  unworthy  defence,  if  I  let  the  Court  infer  from  what  I 
say  myself,  or  from  what  is  said  by  my  witnesses,  that  because 
I  am  a  man  who  hate  drunken  motiveless  disorder,  or  any 
wanton  harm,  therefore  I  am  a  man  who  would  never  fight 
against  authority ;  I  hold  it  blasphemy  to  say  that  a  man  ought 
not  to  fight  against  authority :  there  is  no  great  religion  and 
no  great  freedom  that  has  not  done  it,  in  the  beginning.  It 
would  be  impertinent  for  me  to  speak  of  this  now,  if  I  did  not 
need  to  say  in  my  own  defence,  that  I  should  hold  myself  the 
worst  sort  of  traitor  if  I  put  my  hand  either  to  fighting  or  dis- 
order —  which  must  mean  injury  to  somebody  —  if  I  were  not 
urged  to  it  by  what  I  hold  to  be  sacred  feelings,  making  a 
sacred  duty  either  to  my  own  manhood  or  to  my  fellow-man. 


456  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

And  certainly,"  Felix  ended  with  a  strong  ring  of  scorn  in  his 
voice,  "  I  never  held  it  a  sacred  duty  to  try  and  get  a  Radical 
candidate  returned  for  North  Loamshire,  by  willingly  heading 
a  drunken  howling  mob,  whose  public  action  must  consist  in 
breaking  windows,  destroying  hard-got  produce,  and  endanger- 
ing the  lives  of  men  and  women.  I  have  no  more  to  say,  my 
Lord." 

"  I  foresaw  he  would  make  a  blunder,"  said  Harold,  in  a  low 
voice  to  Esther.  Then,  seeing  her  shrink  a  little,  he  feared 
she  might  suspect  him  of  being  merely  stung  by  the  allusion 
to  himself.  "  I  don't  mean  what  he  said  about  the  Radical 
candidate,"  he  added  hastily,  in  correction.  "  I  don't  mean  the 
last  sentence.  I  mean  that  whole  peroration  of  his,  which  he 
ought  to  have  left  unsaid.  It  has  done  him  harm  with  the  jury 
—  they  won't  understand  it,  or  rather  will  misunderstand  it. 
And  I  '11  answer  for  it,  it  has  soured  the  judge.  It  remains  to 
be  seen  what  we  witnesses  can  say  for  him,  to  nullify  the  effect 
of  what  he  has  said  for  himself.  I  hope  the  attorney  has  done 
his  best  in  collecting  the  evidence  :  I  understand  the  expense 
of  the  witnesses  is  undertaken  by  some  Liberals  at  Glasgow 
and  in  Lancashire,  friends  of  Holt's.  But  I  suppose  your 
father  has  told  you." 

The  first  witness  called  for  the  defence  was  Mr.  Lyon.  The 
gist  of  his  statements  was,  that  from  the  beginning  of  Septem- 
ber last  until  the  day  of  election  he  was  in  very  frequent  in- 
tercourse with  the  prisoner ;  that  he  had  become  intimately 
acquainted  with  his  character  and  views  of  life,  and  his  con- 
duct with  respect  to  the  election,  and  that  these  were  totally 
inconsistent  with  any  other  supposition  than  that  his  being 
involved  in  the  riot,  and  his  fatal  encounter  with  the  consta- 
ble, were  due  to  the  calamitous  failure  of  a  bold  but  good 
purpose.  He  stated  further  that  he  had  been  present  when  an 
interview  had  occurred  in  his  own  house  between  the  prisoner 
and  Mr.  Harold  Transome,  who  was  then  canvassing  for  the 
representation  of  North  Loamshire.  That  the  object  of  the 
prisoner  in  seeking  this  interview  had  been  to  inform  Mr. 
Transome  of  treating  given  in  his  name  to  the  workmen  in  the 
pits  and  on  the  canal  at  Sproxton,  and  to  remonstrate  against 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  457 

its  continuance;  the  prisoner  fearing  that  disturbance  and 
mischief  might  result  from  what  he  believed  to  be  the  end 
towards  which  this  treating  was  directed  —  namely,  the  pres- 
ence of  these  men  on  the  occasions  of  the  nomination  and  poll- 
ing. Several  times  after  this  interview,  Mr.  Lyon  said,  he  had 
heard  Felix  Holt  recur  to  the  subject  therein  discussed  with 
expressions  of  grief  and  anxiety.  He  himself  was  in  the  habit 
of  visiting  Sproxton  in  his  ministerial  capacity  :  he  knew  fully 
what  the  prisoner  had  done  there  in  order  to  found  a  night- 
school,  and  was  certain  that  the  prisoner's  interest  in  the 
working  men  of  that  district  turned  entirely  on  the  possibility 
of  converting  them  somewhat  to  habits  of  soberness  and  to  a 
due  care  for  the  instruction  of  their  children.  Finally,  he 
stated  that  the  prisoner,  in  compliance  with  his  request,  had 
been  present  at  Duffield  on  the  day  of  the  nomination,  and 
had  on  his  return  expressed  himself  with  strong  indignation 
concerning  the  employment  of  the  Sproxton  men  on  that  oc- 
casion, and  what  he  called  the  wickedness  of  hiring  blind 
violence. 

The  quaint  appearance  and  manner  of  the  little  Dissenting 
minister  could  not  fail  to  stimulate  the  peculiar  wit  of  the  bar. 
He  was  subjected  to  a  troublesome  cross-examination,  which  he 
bore  with  wide-eyed  short-sighted  quietude  and  absorption  in 
the  duty  of  truthful  response.  On  being  asked,  rather  sneer- 
ingly,  if  the  prisoner  was  not  one  of  his  flock  ?  he  answered, 
in  that  deeper  tone  which  made  one  of  the  most  effective 
transitions  of  his  varying  voice  — 

"  Nay  —  would  to  God  he  were !  I  should  then  feel  that 
the  great  virtues  and  the  pure  life  I  have  beheld  in  him  were 
a  witness  to  the  efficacy  of  the  faith  I  believe  in  and  the  dis- 
cipline of  the  Church  whereunto  I  belong." 

Perhaps  it  required  a  larger  power  of  comparison  than  was 
possessed  by  any  of  that  audience  to  appreciate  the  moral 
elevation  of  an  Independent  minister  who  could  utter  those 
words.  Nevertheless  there  was  a  murmur,  which  was  clearly 
one  of  sympathy. 

The  next  witness,  and  the  one  on  whom  the  interest  of  the 
spectators  was  chiefly  concentrated,  was  Harold  Transome. 


458  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  KADICAL. 

There  was  a  decided  predominance  of  Tory  feeling  in  the 
Court,  and  the  human  disposition  to  enjoy  the  infliction  of  a 
little  punishment  on  an  opposite  party,  was,  in  this  instance, 
of  a  Tory  complexion.  Harold  was  keenly  alive  to  this,  and 
to  everything  else  that  might  prove  disagreeable  to  him  in  his 
having  to  appear  in  the  witness-box.  But  he  was  not  likely 
to  lose  his  self-possession,  or  to  fail  in  adjusting  himself  grace- 
fully, under  conditions  which  most  men  would  find  it  difficult 
to  carry  without  awkwardness.  He  had  generosity  and  candor 
enough  to  bear  Felix  Holt's  proud  rejection  of  his  advances 
without  any  petty  resentment ;  he  had  all  the  susceptibilities 
of  a  gentleman ;  and  these  moral  qualities  gave  the  right  direc- 
tion to  his  acumen,  in  judging  of  the  behavior  that  would  best 
secure  his  dignity.  Everything  requiring  self-command  was 
easier  to  him  because  of  Esther's  presence  ;  for  her  admiration 
was  just  then  the  object  which  this  well-tanned  man  of  the 
world  had  it  most  at  heart  to  secure. 

When  he  entered  the  witness-box  he  was  much  admired  by 
the  ladies  amongst  the  audience,  many  of  whom  sighed  a  little 
at  the  thought  of  his  wrong  course  in  politics.  He  certainly 
looked  like  a  handsome  portrait  by  Sir  Thomas  Lawrence,  in 
which  that  remarkable  artist  had  happily  omitted  the  usual 
excess  of  honeyed  blandness  mixed  with  alert  intelligence, 
which  is  hardly  compatible  with  the  state  of  man  out  of  para- 
dise. He  stood  not  far  off  Felix ;  and  the  two  Radicals  cer- 
tainly made  a  striking  contrast.  Felix  might  have  come  from 
the  hands  of  a  sculptor  in  the  later  Roman  period,  when  the 
plastic  impulse  was  stirred  by  the  grandeur  of  barbaric  forms 
—  when  rolled  collars  were  not  yet  conceived,  and  satin  stocks 
were  not. 

Harold  Transome  declared  that  he  had  had  only  one  inter- 
view with  the  prisoner :  it  was  the  interview  referred  to  by 
the  previous  witness,  in  whose  presence  and  in  whose  house  it 
was  begun.  The  interview,  however,  was  continued  beyond 
the  observation  of  Mr.  Lyon.  The  prisoner  and  himself 
quitted  the  Dissenting  minister's  house  in  Malthouse  Yard 
together,  and  proceeded  to  the  office  of  Mr.  Jermyn,  who  was 
then  conducting  electioneering  business  on  his  behalf.  His 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  459 

object  was  to  comply  with  Holt's  remonstrance  by  inquiring 
into  the  alleged  proceedings  at  Sproxton,  and,  if  possible,  to 
put  a  stop  to  them.  Holt's  language,  both  in  Malthouse  Yard 
and  in  the  attorney's  office,  was  strong :  he  was  evidently  in- 
dignant, and  his  indignation  turned  on  the  danger  of  employ- 
ing ignorant  men  excited  by  drink  on  an  occasion  of  popular 
concourse.  He  believed  that  Holt's  sole  motive  was  the  pre- 
vention of  disorder,  and  what  he  considered  the  demoralization 
of  the  workmen  by  treating.  The  event  had  certainly  justified 
his  remonstrances.  He  had  not  had  any  subsequent  opportu- 
nities of  observing  the  prisoner ;  but  if  any  reliance  was  to  be 
placed  on  a  rational  conclusion,  it  must,  he  thought,  be  plain 
that  the  anxiety  thus  manifested  by  Holt  was  a  guarantee  of 
the  statement  he  had  made  as  to  his  motives  on  the  day  of  the 
riot.  His  entire  impression  from  Holt's  manner  in  that  single 
interview  was,  that  he  was  a  moral  and  political  enthusiast, 
who,  if  he  sought  to  coerce  others,  would  seek  to  coerce  them 
into  a  difficult,  and  perhaps  impracticable,  scrupulosity. 

Harold  spoke  with  as  noticeable  a  directness  and  emphasis, 
as  if  what  he  said  could  have  no  reaction  on  himself.  He  had 
of  course  not  entered  unnecessarily  into  what  occurred  in  Jer- 
myn's  office.  But  now  he  was  subjected  to  a  cross-examination 
on  this  subject,  which  gave  rise  to  some  subdued  shrugs,  smiles, 
and  winks,  among  county  gentleman. 

The  questions  were  directed  so  as  to  bring  out,  if  possible, 
some  indication  that  Felix  Holt  was  moved  to  his  remonstrance 
by  personal  resentment  against  the  political  agents  concerned 
in  setting  on  foot  the  treating  at  Sproxton,  but  such  question- 
ing is  a  sort  of  target-shooting  that  sometimes  hits  about 
widely.  The  cross-examining  counsel  had  close  connections 
among  the  Tories  of  Loamshire,  and  enjoyed  his  business  to- 
day. Under  the  fire  of  various  questions  about  Jermyn  and 
the  agent  employed  by  him  at  Sproxton,  Harold  got  warm,  and 
in  one  of  his  replies  said,  with  his  rapid  sharpness  — 

"  Mr.  Jermyn  was  my  agent  then,  not  now :  I  have  no  longer 
any  but  hostile  relations  with  him." 

The  sense  that  he  had  shown  a  slight  heat  would  have  vexed 
Harold  more  if  he  had  not  got  some  satisfaction  out  of  the 


460  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

thought  that  Jermyn  heard  those  words.  He  recovered  his 
good  temper  quickly,  and  when,  subsequently,  the  question 
came  — 

"You  acquiesced  in  the  treating  of  the  Sproxton  men,  as 
necessary  to  the  efficient  working  of  the  reformed  constitu- 
ency ?  "  Harold  replied,  with  quiet  fluency  — 

"  Yes ;  on  my  return  to  England,  before  I  put  up  for 
North  Loamshire,  I  got  the  best  advice  from  practised  agents, 
both  Whig  and  Tory.  They  all  agreed  as  to  electioneering 
measures." 

The  next  witness  was  Michael  Brincey,  otherwise  Mike 
Brindle,  who  gave  evidence  of  the  sayings  and  doings  of  the 
prisoner  amongst  the  Sproxton  men.  Mike  declared  that 
Felix  went  "uncommon  again'  drink,  and  pitch-and-toss,  and 
quarrelling,  and  sich,"  and  was  "  all  for  schooling  and  bringing 
up  the  little  chaps ; "  but  on  being  cross-examined,  he  admitted 
that  he  "couldn't  give  much  account;"  that  Felix  did  talk 
again'  idle  folks,  whether  poor  or  rich,  and  that  most  like  he 
meant  the  rich,  who  had  "  a  rights  to  be  idle,"  which  was  what 
he,  Mike,  liked  himself  sometimes,  though  for  the  most  part  he 
was  "  a  hard-working  butty."  On  being  checked  for  this  super- 
fluous allegation  of  his  own  theory  and  practice,  Mike  became 
timidly  conscious  that  answering  was  a  great  mystery  beyond 
the  reaches  of  a  butty's  soul,  and  began  to  err  from  defect  in- 
stead of  excess.  However,  he  reasserted  that  what  Felix  most 
wanted  was,  "  to  get  'em  to  set  up  a  school  for  the  little  chaps." 

With  the  two  succeeding  witnesses,  who  swore  to  the  fact 
that  Felix  had  tried  to  lead  the  mob  along  Hobb's  Lane  instead 
of  towards  the  Manor,  and  to  the  violently  threatening  char- 
acter of  Tucker's  attack  on  him,  the  case  for  the  defence  was 
understood  to  close. 

Meanwhile  Esther  had  been  looking  on  and  listening  with 
growing  misery,  in  the  sense  that  all  had  not  been  said  which 
might  have  been  said  on  behalf  of  Felix.  If  it  was  the  jury 
who  were  to  be  acted  on,  she  argued  to  herself,  there  might 
have  been  an  impression  made  on  their  feeling  which  would 
determine  their  verdict.  Was  it  not  constantly  said  and  seen 
that  juries  pronounced  Guilty  or  Not  Guilty  from  sympathy 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  461 

for  or  against  the  accused?  She  was  too  inexperienced  to 
check  her  own  argument  by  thoroughly  representing  to  herself 
the  course  of  things:  how  the  counsel  for  the  prosecution 
would  reply,  and  how  the  judge  would  sum  up,  with  the  object 
of  cooling  down  sympathy  into  deliberation.  What  she  had 
painfully  pressing  on  her  inward  vision  was,  that  the  trial  was 
coming  to  an  end,  and  that  the  voice  of  right  and  truth  had  not 
been  strong  enough. 

When  a  woman  feels  purely  and  nobly,  that  ardor  of  hers 
which  breaks  through  formulas  too  rigorously  urged  on  men 
by  daily  practical  needs,  makes  one  of  her  most  precious  in- 
fluences :  she  is  the  added  impulse  that  shatters  the  stiffening 
crust  of  cautious  experience.  Her  inspired  ignorance  gives 
a  sublimity  to  actions  so  incongruously  simple,  that  otherwise 
they  would  make  men  smile.  Some  of  that  ardor  which  has 
flashed  out  and  illuminated  all  poetry  and  history  was  burning 
to-day  in  the  bosom  of  sweet  Esther  Lyon.  In  this,  at  least, 
her  woman's  lot  was  perfect :  that  the  man  she  loved  was  her 
hero ;  that  her  woman's  passion  and  her  reverence  for  rarest 
goodness  rushed  together  in  an  undivided  current.  And  to- 
day they  were  making  one  danger,  one  terror,  one  irresistible 
impulse  for  her  heart.  Her  feelings  were  growing  into  a  ne- 
cessity for  action,  rather  than  a  resolve  to  act.  She  could  not 
support  the  thought  that  the  trial  would  come  to  an  end,  that 
sentence  would  be  passed  on  Felix,  and  that  all  the  while 
something  had  been  omitted  which  might  have  been  said  for 
him.  There  had  been  no  witness  to  tell  what  had  been  his 
behavior  and  state  of  mind  just  before  the  riot.  She  must  do 
it.  It  was  possible.  There  was  time.  But  not  too  much 
time.  All  other  agitation  became  merged  in  eagerness  not  to 
let  the  moment  escape.  The  last  witness  was  being  called. 
Harold  Transome  had  not  been  able  to  get  back  to  her  on 
leaving  the  witness-box,  but  Mr.  Lingon  was  close  by  her. 
With  firm  quickness  she  said  to  him  — 

"  Pray  tell  the  attorney  that  I  have  evidence  to  give  for  the 
prisoner  — lose  no  time." 

"  Do  you  know  what  you  are  going  to  say,  my  dear  ?  "  said 
Mr.  Lingon,  looking  at  her  in  astonishment. 


462  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

"  Yes  —  I  entreat  you,  for  God's  sake,"  said  Esther,  in  that 
low  tone  of  urgent  beseeching  which  is  equivalent  to  a  cry ; 
and  with  a  look  of  appeal  more  penetrating  still,  "I  would 
rather  die  than  not  do  it." 

The  old  Rector,  always  leaning  to  the  good-natured  view  of 
things,  felt  chiefly  that  there  seemed  to  be  an  additional  chance 
for  the  poor  fellow  who  had  got  himself  into  trouble.  He  dis- 
puted no  farther,  but  went  to  the  attorney. 

Before  Harold  was  aware  of  Esther's  intention  she  was  on 
her  way  to  the  witness-box.  When  she  appeared  there,  it  was 
as  if  a  vibration,  quick  as  light,  had  gone  through  the  Court 
and  had  shaken  Felix  himself,  who  had  hitherto  seemed  im- 
passive. A  sort  of  gleam  seemed  to  shoot  across  his  face,  and 
any  one  close  to  him  would  have  seen  that  his  hand,  which  lay 
on  the  edge  of  the  dock,  trembled. 

At  the  first  moment  Harold  was  startled  and  alarmed ;  the 
next,  he  felt  delight  in  Esther's  beautiful  aspect,  and  in  the 
admiration  of  the  Court.  There  was  no  blush  on  her  face : 
she  stood,  divested  of  all  personal  considerations  whether  of 
vanity  or  shyness.  Her  clear  voice  sounded  as  it  might  have 
done  if  she  had  been  making  a  confession  of  faith.  She  began 
and  went  on  without  query  or  interruption.  Every  face  looked 
grave  and  respectful. 

"  I  am  Esther  Lyon,  the  daughter  of  Mr.  Lyon,  the  Inde- 
pendent minister  at  Treby,  who  has  been  one  of  the  witnesses 
for  the  prisoner.  I  know  Felix  Holt  well.  On  the  day  of  the 
election  at  Treby,  when  I  had  been  much  alarmed  by  the  noises 
that  reached  me  from  the  main  street,  Felix  Holt  came  to  call 
upon  me.  He  knew  that  my  father  was  away,  and  he  thought 
that  I  should  be  alarmed  by  the  sounds  of  disturbance.  It 
was  about  the  middle  of  the  day,  and  he  came  to  tell  me  that 
the  disturbance  was  quieted,  and  that  the  streets  were  nearly 
emptied.  But  he  said  he  feared  that  the  men  would  collect 
again  after  drinking,  and  that  something  worse  might  happen 
later  in  the  day.  And  he  was  in  much  sadness  at  this  thought. 
He  stayed  a  little  while,  and  then  he  left  me.  He  was  very 
melancholy.  His  mind  was  full  of  great  resolutions  that  came 
from  his  kind  feeling  towards  others.  It  was  the  last  thing 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  463 

he  would  have  done  to  join  in  riot  or  to  hurt  any  man,  if  he 
could  have  helped  it.  His  nature  is  very  noble ;  he  is  tender- 
hearted ;  he  could  never  have  had  any  intention  that  was  not 
brave  and  good." 

There  was  something  so  na'ive  and  beautiful  in  this  action 
of  Esther's,  that  it  conquered  every  low  or  petty  suggestion 
even  in  the  commonest  minds.  The  three  men  in  that  as- 
sembly who  knew  her  best  —  even  her  father  and  Felix  Holt 
—  felt  a  thrill  of  surprise  mingling  with  their  admiration. 
This  bright,  delicate,  beautiful-shaped  thing  that  seemed  most 
like  a  toy  or  ornament  —  some  hand  had  touched  the  chords, 
and  there  came  forth  music  that  brought  tears.  Half  a  year 
before,  Esther's  dread  of  being  ridiculous  spread  over  the 
surface  of  her  life;  but  the  4epth  below  was  sleeping. 

Harold  Transome  was  ready  to  give  her  his  hand  and  lead 
her  back  to  her  place.  When  she  was  there,  Felix,  for  the 
first  time,  could  not  help  looking  towards  her,  and  their  eyes 
met  in  one  solemn  glance. 

Afterwards  Esther  found  herself  unable  to  listen  so  as  to 
form  any  judgment  on  what  she  heard.  The  acting  out  of 
that  strong  impulse  had  exhausted  her  energy.  There  was  a 
brief  pause,  filled  with  a  murmur,  a  buzz,  and  much  coughing. 
The  audience  generally  felt  as  if  dull  weather  was  setting  in 
again.  And  under  those  auspices  the  counsel  for  the  prosecu- 
tion got  up  to  make  his  reply.  Esther's  deed  had  its  effect 
beyond  the  momentary  one,  but  the  effect  was  not  visible  in 
the  rigid  necessities  of  legal  procedure.  The  counsel's  duty  of 
restoring  all  unfavorable  facts  to  due  prominence  in  the  minds 
of  the  jurors,  had  its  effect  altogether  reinforced  by  the  sum- 
ming-up of  the  judge.  Even  the  bare  discernment  of  facts, 
much  more  their  arrangement  with  a  view  to  inferences,  must 
carry  a  bias  :  human  impartiality,  whether  judicial  or  not,  can 
hardly  escape  being  more  or  less  loaded.  It  was  not  that  the 
judge  had  severe  intentions  ;  it  was  only  that  he  saw  with 
severity.  The  conduct  of  Felix  was  not  such  as  inclined  him 
to  indulgent  consideration,  and,  in  his  directions  to  the  jury, 
that  mental  attitude  necessarily  told  on  the  light  in  which  he 
placed  the  homicide.  Even  to  many  in  the  Court  who  were 


464  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL. 

not  constrained  by  judicial  duty,  it  seemed  that  though  this 
high  regard  felt  for  the  prisoner  by  his  friends,  and  especially 
by  a  generous-hearted  woman,  was  very  pretty,  such  conduct 
as  his  was  not  the  less  dangerous  and  foolish,  and  assaulting 
and  killing  a  constable  was  not  the  less  an  offence  to  be 
regarded  without  leniency. 

Esther  seemed  now  so  tremulous,  and  looked  so  ill,  that 
Harold  begged  her  to  leave  the  Court  with  his  mother  and 
Mr.  Lingon.  He  would  come  and  tell  her  the  issue.  But  she 
said,  quietly,  that  she  would  rather  stay ;  she  was  only  a  little 
overcome  by  the  exertion  of  speaking.  She  was  inwardly 
resolved  to  see  Felix  to  the  last  moment  before  he  left  the 
Court. 

Though  she  could  not  follow  the  address  of  the  counsel  or 
the  judge,  she  had  a  keen  ear  for  what  was  brief  and  decisive. 
She  heard  the  verdict,  "  Guilty  of  manslaughter."  And  every 
word  uttered  by  the  judge  in  pronouncing  sentence  fell  upon 
her  like  an  unf  orgetable  sound  that  would  come  back  in  dream- 
ing and  in  waking.  She  had  her  eyes  on  Felix,  and  at  the 
words,  "  Imprisonment  for  four  years,"  she  saw  his  lip  tremble. 
But  otherwise  he  stood  firm  and  calm. 

Esther  gave  a  start  from  her  seat.  Her  heart  swelled  with 
a  horrible  sensation  of  pain ;  but,  alarmed  lest  she  should  lose 
her  self-command,  she  grasped  Mrs.  Transome's  hand,  getting 
some  strength  from  that  human  contact. 

Esther  saw  that  Felix  had  turned.  She  could  no  longer  see 
his  face.  "  Yes,"  she  said,  drawing  down  her  veil,  "  let  us  go." 


CHAPTER  XL VII. 

The  devil  tempts  us  not  —  't  is  we  tempt  him. 
Beckoning  his  skill  with  opportunity. 

THE  more  permanent  effect  of  Esther's  action  in  the  trial 
was  visible  in  a  meeting  which  took  place  the  next  day  in 
the  principal  room  of  the  White  Hart  at  Loamford.  To  the 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  465 

magistrates  and  other  county  gentlemen  who  were  drawn  togeth- 
er about  noon,  some  of  the  necessary  impulse  might  have  been 
lacking  but  for  that  stirring  of  heart  in  certain  just-spirited 
men  and  good  fathers  among  them,  which  had  been  raised  to 
a  high  pitch  of  emotion  by  Esther's  maidenly  fervor.  Among 
these  one  of  the  foremost  was  Sir  Maximus  Debarry,  who  had 
come  to  the  assizes  with  a  mind,  as  usual,  slightly  rebellious 
under  an  influence  which  he  never  ultimately  resisted  —  the 
influence  of  his  son.  Philip  Debarry  himself  was  detained  in 
London,  but  in  his  correspondence  with  his  father  he  had 
urged  him,  as  well  as  his  uncle  Augustus,  to  keep  eyes  and 
interest  awake  on  the  subject  of  Felix  Holt,  whom,  from  all 
the  knowledge  of  the  case  he  had  been  able  to  obtain,  he  was 
inclined  to  believe  peculiarly  unfortunate  rather  than  guilty. 
Philip  had  said  he  was  the  more  anxious  that  his  family  should 
intervene  benevolently  in  this  affair,  if  it  were  possible,  be- 
cause he  understood  that  Mr.  Lyon  took  the  young  man's  case 
particularly  to  heart,  and  he  should  always  regard  himself  as 
obliged  to  the  old  preacher.  At  this  superfineness  of  consider- 
ation Sir  Maximus  had  vented  a  few  "  pshaws  ! "  and,  in  rela- 
tion to  the  whole  affair,  had  grumbled  that  Phil  was  always 
setting  him  to  do  he  did  n't  know  what  —  always  seeming  to 
turn  nothing  into  something  by  dint  of  words  which  had  n't  so 
much  substance  as  a  mote  behind  them.  Nevertheless  he  was 
coerced ;  and  in  reality  he  was  willing  to  do  anything  fair  or 
good-natured  which  had  a  handle  that  his  understanding  could 
lay  hold  of.  His  brother,  the  Rector,  desired  to  be  rigorously 
just ;  but  he  had  come  to  Loamford  with  a  severe  opinion  con- 
cerning Felix,  thinking  that  some  sharp  punishment  might  be 
a  wholesome  check  on  the  career  of  a  young  man  disposed  to 
rely  too  much  on  his  own  crude  devices. 

Before  the  trial  commenced,  Sir  Maximus  had  naturally 
been  one  of  those  who  had  observed  Esther  with  curiosity, 
owing  to  the  report  of  her  inheritance,  and  her  probable  mar- 
riage to  his  once  welcome  but  now  exasperating  neighbor, 
Harold  Transome ;  and  he  had  made  the  emphatic  comment 
—  "A  fine  girl !  something  thoroughbred  in  the  look  of  her ! 
Too  crood  for  a  Radical ;  that 's  all  I  have  to  say."  But  during 


466  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  KADICAL. 

the  trial  Sir  Maximus  was  wrought  into  a  state  of  sympathetic 
ardor  that  needed  no  fanning.  As  soon  as  he  could  take  his 
brother  by  the  buttonhole,  he  said  — 

"  I  tell  you  what,  Gus !  we  must  exert  ourselves  to  get  a 
pardon  for  this  young  fellow.  Confound  it !  what  's  the  use 
of  mewing  him  up  for  four  years  ?  Example  ?  Nonsense. 
Will  there  be  a  man  knocked  down  the  less  for  it  ?  That  girl 
made  me  cry.  Depend  upon  it,  whether  she 's  going  to  marry 
Transome  or  not,  she 's  been  fond  of  Holt  —  in  her  poverty, 
you  know.  She's  a  modest,  brave,  beautiful  woman.  I'd 
ride  a  steeplechase,  old  as  I  am,  to  gratify  her  feelings.  Hang 
it !  the  fellow 's  a  good  fellow  if  she  thinks  so.  And  he  threw 
out  a  fine  sneer,  I  thought,  at  the  Radical  candidate.  Depend 
upon  it,  he  's  a  good  fellow  at  bottom." 

The  Hector  had  not  exactly  the  same  kind  of  ardor,  nor  was 
he  open  to  precisely  that  process  of  proof  which  appeared  to 
have  convinced  Sir  Maximus ;  but  he  had  been  so  far  influ- 
enced as  to  be  inclined  to  unite  in  an  effort  on  the  side  of 
mercy,  observing,  also,  that  he  "  knew  Phil  would  be  on  that 
side."  And  by  the  co-operation  of  similar  movements  in  the 
minds  of  other  men  whose  names  were  of  weight,  a  meeting 
had  been  determined  on  to  consult  about  getting  up  a  memo- 
rial to  the  Home  Secretary  on  behalf  of  Felix  Holt.  His  case 
had  never  had  the  sort  of  significance  that  could  rouse  politi- 
cal partisanship ;  and  such  interest  as  was  now  felt  in  him 
was  still  more  unmixed  with  that  inducement.  The  gentle- 
men who  gathered  in  the  room  at  the  White  Hart  were  —  not 
as  the  large  imagination  of  the  "  North  Loamshire  Herald  " 
suggested,  "of  all  shades  of  political  opinion,"  but  —  of  as 
many  shades  as  were  to  be  found  among  the  gentlemen  of 
that  county. 

Harold  Transome  had  been  energetically  active  in  bringing 
about  this  meeting.  Over  and  above  the  stings  of  conscience 
and  a  determination  to  act  up  to  the  level  of  all  recognized 
honorableness,  he  had  the  powerful  motive  of  desiring  to  do 
what  would  satisfy  Esther.  His  gradually  heightened  percep- 
tion that  she  had  a  strong  feeling  towards  Felix  Holt  had  not 
made  him  uneasy.  Harold  had  a  conviction  that  might  have 


FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL.  467 

seemed  like  fatuity  if  it  had  not  been  that  he  saw  the  effect 
he  produced  on  Esther  by  the  light  of  his  opinions  about 
women  in  general.  The  conviction  was,  that  Felix  Holt  could 
not  be  his  rival  in  any  formidable  sense  :  Esther's  admiration 
for  this  eccentric  young  man  was,  he  thought,  a  moral  enthu- 
siasm, a  romantic  fervor,  which  was  one  among  those  many 
attractions  quite  novel  in  his  own  experience ;  her  distress 
about  the  trouble  of  one  who  had  been  a  familiar  object  in 
her  former  home,  was  no  more  than  naturally  followed  from  a 
tender  woman's  compassion.  The  place  young  Holt  had  held 
in  her  regard  had  necessarily  changed  its  relations  now  that 
her  lot  was  so  widely  changed.  It  is  undeniable,  that  what 
most  conduced  to  the  quieting  nature  of  Harold's  conclusions 
was  the  influence  on  his  imagination  of  the  more  or  less  de- 
tailed reasons  that  Felix  Holt  was  a  watchmaker,  that  his 
home  and  dress  were  of  a  certain  quality,  that  his  person  and 
manners  —  that,  in  short  (for  Harold,  like  the  rest  of  us,  had 
many  impressions  which  saved  him  the  trouble  of  distinct 
ideas),  Felix  Holt  was  not  the  sort  of  man  a  woman  woiild  be 
likely  to  be  in  love  with  when  she  was  wooed  by  Harold 
Transome. 

Thus,  he  was  sufficiently  at  rest  on  this  point  not  to  be 
exercising  any  painful  self-conquest  in  acting  as  the  zealous 
advocate  of  Felix  Holt's  cause  with  all  persons  worth  influ- 
encing ;  but  it  was  by  no  direct  intercourse  between  him  and  Sir 
Maximus  that  they  found  themselves  in  co-operation,  for  the 
old  baronet  would  not  recognize  Harold  by  more  than  the 
faintest  bow,  and  Harold  was  not  a  man  to  expose  himself  to 
a  rebuff.  Whatever  he  in  his  inmost  soul  regarded  as  nothing 
more  than  a  narrow  prejudice,  he  could  defy,  not  with  airs 
of  importance,  but  with  easy  indifference.  He  could  bear 
most  things  good-humoredly  where  he  felt  that  he  had  the 
superiority.  The  object  of  the  meeting  was  discussed,  and 
the  memorial  agreed  upon  without  any  clashing.  Mr.  Lingon 
was  gone  home,  but  it  was  expected  that  his  concurrence  and 
signature  would  be  given,  as  well  as  those  of  other  gentlemen 
who  were  absent.  The  business  gradually  reached  that  stage 
at  which  the  concentration  of  interest  ceases  —  when  the 


468  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

attention  of  all  but  a  few  who  are  more  practically  concerned 
drops  off  and  disperses  itself  in  private  chat,  and  there  is  no 
longer  any  particular  reason  why  everybody  stays  except  that 
everybody  is  there.  The  room  was  rather  a  long  one,  and  in- 
vited to  a  little  movement :  one  gentleman  drew  another  aside 
to  speak  in  an  undertone  about  Scotch  bullocks  ;  another  had 
something  to  say  about  the  North  Loamshire  Hunt  to  a  friend 
who  was  the  reverse  of  good-looking,  but  who,  nevertheless, 
while  listening,  showed  his  strength  of  mind  by  giving  a  severe 
attention  also  to  his  full-length  reflection  in  the  handsome 
tall  mirror  that  filled  the  space  between  two  windows.  And 
in  this  way  the  groups  were  continually  shifting. 

But  in  the  mean  time  there  were  moving  towards  this  room 
at  the  White  Hart  the  footsteps  of  a  person  whose  presence 
had  not  been  invited,  and  who,  very  far  from  being  drawn 
thither  by  the  belief  that  he  would  be  welcome,  knew  well 
that  his  entrance  would,  to  one  person  at  least,  be  bitterly 
disagreeable.  They  were  the  footsteps  of  Mr.  Jermyn,  whose 
appearance  that  morning  was  not  less  comely  and  less  care- 
fully tended  than  usual,  but  who  was  suffering  the  torment  of 
a  compressed  rage,  which,  if  not  impotent  to  inflict  pain  on 
another,  was  impotent  to  avert  evil  from  himself.  After  his 
interview  with  Mrs.  Transome  there  had  been  for  some  reasons 
a  delay  of  positive  procedures  against  him  by  Harold,  of  which 
delay  Jermyn  had  twice  availed  himself ;  first,  to  seek  an 
interview  with  Harold,  and  then  to  send  him  a  letter.  The 
interview  had  been  refused  ;  and  the  letter  had  been  returned, 
with  the  statement  that  no  communication  could  take  place 
except  through  Harold's  lawyers.  And  yesterday  Johnson 
had  brought  Jermyn  the  information  that  he  would  quickly 
hear  of  the  proceedings  in  Chancery  being  resumed :  the 
watch  Johnson  kept  in  town  had  given  him  secure  knowledge 
on  this  head.  A  doomed  animal,  with  every  issue  earthed  up 
except  that  where  its  enemy  stands,  must,  if  it  has  teeth  and 
fierceness,  try  its  one  chance  without  delay.  And  a  man  may 
reach  a  point  in  his  life  in  which  his  impulses  are  not  distin- 
guished from  those  of  a  hunted  brute  by  any  capability  of 
scruples.  Our  selfishness  is  so  robust  and  many-clutching, 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  469 

that,  well  encouraged,  it  easily  devours  all  sustenance  away 
from  our  poor  little  scruples. 

Since  Harold  would  not  give  Jermyn  access  to  him,  that 
vigorous  attorney  was  resolved  to  take  it.  He  knew  all  about 
the  meeting  at  the  White  Hart,  and  he  was  going  thither  with 
the  determination  of  accosting  Harold.  He  thought  he  knew 
what  he  should  say,  and  the  tone  in  which  he  should  say  it. 
It  would  be  a  vague  intimation,  carrying  the  effect  of  a  threat, 
which  should  compel  Harold  to  give  him  a  private  interview. 
To  any  counter-consideration  that  presented  itself  in  his  mind 
—  to  anything  that  an  imagined  voice  might  say  —  the  im- 
agined answer  arose,  "  That 's  all  very  fine,  but  I  'm  not  going 
to  be  ruined  if  I  can  help  it  —  least  of  all,  ruined  in  that  way." 
Shall  we  call  it  degeneration  or  gradual  development  —  this 
effect  of  thirty  additional  winters  on  the  soft-glancing,  versi- 
fying young  Jermyn  ? 

When  Jermyn  entered  the  room  at  the  White  Hart  he  did 
not  immediately  see  Harold.  The  door  was  at  the  extremity 
of  the  room,  and  the  view  was  obstructed  by  groups  of  gentle- 
men with  figures  broadened  by  overcoats.  His  entrance  excited 
no  peculiar  observation:  several  persons  had  come  in  late. 
Only  one  or  two,  who  knew  Jermyn  well,  were  not  too  much 
preoccupied  to  have  a  glancing  remembrance  of  what  had  been 
chatted  about  freely  the  day  before  —  Harold's  irritated  reply 
about  his  agent,  from  the  witness-box.  Eeceiving  and  giving 
a  slight  nod  here  and  there,  Jermyn  pushed  his  way,  looking 
round  keenly,  until  he  saw  Harold  standing  near  the  other  end 
of  the  room.  The  solicitor  who  had  acted  for  Felix  was  just 
then  speaking  to  him,  but  having  put  a  paper  into  his  hand 
turned  away ;  and  Harold,  standing  isolated,  though  at  no  great 
distance  from  others,  bent  his  eyes  on  the  paper.  He  looked 
brilliant  that  morning;  his  blood  was  flowing  prosperously. 
He  had  come  in  after  a  ride,  and  was  additionally  brightened 
by  rapid  talk  and  the  excitement  of  seeking  to  impress  himself 
favorably,  or  at  least  powerfully,  on  the  minds  of  neighbors 
nearer  or  more  remote.  He  had  just  that  amount  of  flush 
which  indicates  that  life  is  more  enjoyable  than  usual ;  and  as 
he  stood  with  his  left  hand  caressing  his  whisker,  and  his  right 


470  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

holding  the  paper  and  his  riding-whip,  his  dark  eyes  running 
rapidly  along  the  written  lines,  and  his  lips  reposing  in  a  curve 
of  good-humor  which  had  more  happiness  in  it  than  a  smile, 
all  beholders  might  have  seen  that  his  mind  was  at  ease. 

Jermyn  walked  quickly  and  quietly  close  up  to  him.  The 
two  men  were  of  the  same  height,  and  before  Harold  looked 
round  Jermyn's  voice  was  saying,  close  to  his  ear,  not  in  a 
whisper,  but  in  a  hard,  incisive,  disrespectful  and  yet  not  loud 
tone  — 

"  Mr.  Transome,  I  must  speak  to  you  in  private." 
The  sound  jarred  through  Harold  with  a  sensation  all  the 
more  insufferable  because  of  the  revulsion  from  the  satisfied, 
almost  elated,  state  in  which  it  had  seized  him.  He  started 
and  looked  round  into  Jermyn's  eyes.  For  an  instant,  which 
seemed  long,  there  was  no  sound  between  them,  but  only  angry 
hatred  gathering  in  the  two  faces.  Harold  felt  himself  going 
to  crush  this  insolence :  Jermyn  felt  that  he  had  words  within 
him  that  were  fangs  to  clutch  this  obstinate  strength,  and 
wring  forth  the  blood  and  compel  submission.  And  Jermyn's 
impulse  was  the  more  urgent.  He  said,  in  a  tone  that  was 
rather  lower,  but  yet  harder  and  more  biting  — 
"  You  will  repent  else  —  for  your  mother's  sake." 
At  that  sound,  quick  as  a  leaping  flame,  Harold  had  struck 
Jermyn  across  the  face  with  his  whip.  The  brim  of  the  hat 
had  been  a  defence.  Jermyn,  a  powerful  man,  had  instantly 
thrust  out  his  hand  and  clutched  Harold  hard  by  the  clothes 
just  below  the  throat,  pushing  him  slightly  so  as  to  make  him 
stagger. 

By  this  time  everybody's  attention  had  been  called  to  this 
end  of  the  room,  but  both  Jermyn  and  Harold  were  beyond 
being  arrested  by  any  consciousness  of  spectators. 

"Let  me  go,  you  scoundrel !"  said  Harold,  fiercely,  "or  I'll 
be  the  death  of  you." 

"  Do,"  said  Jermyn,  in  a  grating  voice ;  "  I  am  your  father." 

In  the  thrust  by  which  Harold  had  been  made  to  stagger 

backward   a  little,  the  two  men  had  got  very  near  the  long 

mirror.     They  were  both  white  ;  both  had  anger  and  hatred  in 

their  faces;   the  hands  of  both  were  upraised.     As  Harold 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  471 

heard  the  last  terrible  words  he  started  at  a  leaping  throb 
that  went  through  him,  and  in  the  start  turned  his  eyes  away 
from  Jermyn's  face.  He  turned  them  on  the  same  face  in  the 
glass  with  his  own  beside  it,  and  saw  the  hated  fatherhood 
reasserted. 

The  young  strong  man  reeled  with  a  sick  faintness.  But  in 
the  same  moment  Jermyn  released  his  hold,  and  Harold  felt 
himself  supported  by  the  arm.  It  was  Sir  Maximus  Debarry 
who  had  taken  hold  of  him. 

"  Leave  the  room,  sir ! "  the  Baronet  said  to  Jermyn,  in  a 
voice  of  imperious  scorn.  "  This  is  a  meeting  of  gentlemen." 

"Come,  Harold,"  he  said,  in  the  old  friendly  voice,  "come 
away  with  me." 


CHAPTER  XLVIII. 

'T  is  law  as  steadfast  as  the  throne  of  Zeus  — 
Our  days  are  heritors  of  days  gone  by. 

Agamemnon. 


A  LITTLE  after  five  o'clock  that  day,  Harold  arrived  at  Tran- 
some  Court.  As  he  was  winding  along  the  broad  road  of  the 
park,  some  parting  gleams  of  the  March  sun  pierced  the  trees 
here  and  there,  and  threw  on  the  grass  a  long  shadow  of  him- 
self and  the  groom  riding,  and  illuminated  a  window  or  two 
of  the  home  he  was  approaching.  But  the  bitterness  in  his 
mind  made  these  sunny  gleams  almost  as  odious  as  an  artifi- 
cial smile.  He  wished  he  had  never  come  back  to  this  pale 
English  sunshine. 

In  the  course  of  his  eighteen  miles'  drive,  he  had  made  up 
his  mind  what  he  would  do.  He  understood  now,  as  he  had 
never  understood  before,  the  neglected  solitariness  of  his 
mother's  life,  the  allusions  and  innuendoes  which  had  come  out 
during  the  election.  But  with  a  proud  insurrection  against 
the  hardship  of  an  ignominy  which  was  not  of  his  own  mak- 
ing, he  inwardly  said,  that  if  the  circumstances  of  his  birth 


472  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL. 

were  such,  as  to  warrant  any  man  in  regarding  his  character 
of  gentleman  with  ready  suspicion,  that  character  should  be 
the  more  strongly  asserted  in  his  conduct.  No  one  should 
be  able  to  allege  with  any  show  of  proof  that  he  had  inherited 
meanness. 

As  he  stepped  from  the  carriage  and  entered  the  hall,  there 
were  the  voice  and  the  trotting  feet  of  little  Harry  as  usual, 
and  the  rush  to  clasp  his  father's  leg  and  make  his  joyful 
puppy-like  noises.  Harold  just  touched  the  boy's  head,  and 
then  said  to  Dominic  in  a  weary  voice  — 

"  Take  the  child  away.     Ask  where  my  mother  is." 

Mrs.  Transome,  Dominic  said,  was  up-stairs.  He  had  seen 
her  go  up  after  coming  in  from  her  walk  with  Miss  Lyon,  and 
she  had  not  come  down  again. 

Harold,  throwing  off  his  hat  and  great-coat,  went  straight 
to  his  mother's  dressing-room.  There  was  still  a  hope  in  his 
mind.  He  might  be  suffering  simply  from  a  lie.  There  is 
much  misery  created  in  the  world  by  mere  mistake  or  slander, 
and  he  might  have  been  stunned  by  a  lie  suggested  by  such 
slander.  He  rapped  at  his  mother's  door. 

Her  voice  said  immediately,  "  Come  in." 

Mrs.  Transome  was  resting  in  her  easy-chair,  as  she  often 
did  between  an  afternoon  walk  and  dinner.  She  had  taken 
off  her  walking-dress  and  wrapped  herself  in  a  soft  dressing- 
gown.  She  was  neither  more  nor  less  empty  of  joy  than 
usual.  But  when  she  saw  Harold,  a  dreadful  certainty  took 
possession  of  her.  It  was  as  if  a  long-expected  letter,  with  a 
black  seal,  had  come  at  last. 

Harold's  face  told  her  what  to  fear  the  more  decisively, 
because  she  had  never  before  seen  it  express  a  man's  deep 
agitation.  Since  the  time  of  its  pouting  childhood  and  care- 
less youth  she  had  seen  only  the  confident  strength  and  good- 
humored  imperiousness  of  maturity.  The  last  five  hours  had 
made  a  change  as  great  as  illness  makes.  Harold  looked  as  if 
he  had  been  wrestling,  and  had  had  some  terrible  blow.  His 
eyes  had  that  sunken  look  which,  because  it  is  unusual,  seems 
to  intensify  expression. 

He  looked  at  his  mother  as  he  entered,  and  her  eyes  fol- 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  473 

lowed  him  as  he  moved,  till  he  came  and  stood  in  front  of  her, 
she  looking  up  at  him,  with  white  lips. 

"Mother,"  he  said,  speaking  with  a  distinct  slowness,  in 
strange  contrast  with  his  habitual  manner,  "  tell  me  the  truth, 
that  I  may  know  how  to  act." 

He  paused  a  moment,  and  then  said,  "  Who  is  my  father  ?  " 

She  was  mute  :  her  lips  only  trembled.  Harold  stood  silent 
for  a  few  moments,  as  if  waiting.  Then  he  spoke  again. 

"  He  has  said  —  said  it  before  others  —  that  he  is  my 
father." 

He  looked  still  at  his  mother.  She  seemed  as  if  age  were 
striking  her  with  a  sudden  wand  —  as  if  her  trembling  face 
were  getting  haggard  before  him.  She  was  mute.  But  her 
eyes  had  not  fallen;  they  looked  up  in  helpless  misery  at 
her  son. 

Her  son  turned  away  his  eyes  from  her,  and  left  her.  In 
that  moment  Harold  felt  hard :  he  could  show  no  pity.  All 
the  pride  of  his  nature  rebelled  against  his  sonship. 


CHAPTER  XLIX. 

Nay,  falter  not  —  't  is  an  assured  good 
To  seek  the  noblest  —  't  is  your  only  good 
Now  you  have  seen  it ;  for  that  higher  vision 
Poisons  all  meaner  choice  forevermore. 

THAT  day  Esther  dined  with  old  Mr.  Transome  only.  Har- 
old sent  word  that  he  was  engaged  and  had  already  dined,  and 
Mrs.  Transome  that  she  was  feeling  ill.  Esther  was  much 
disappointed  that  any  tidings  Harold  might  have  brought 
relating  to  Felix  were  deferred  in  this  way  ;  and,  her  anxiety 
making  her  fearful,  she  was  haunted  by  the  thought  that  if 
there  had  been  anything  cheering  to  tell,  he  would  have  found 
time  to  tell  it  without  delay.  Old  Mr.  Transome  went  as 
usual  to  his  sofa  in  the  library  to  sleep  after  dinner,  and 


474  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  EADICAL. 

Esther  had  to  seat  herself  in  the  small  drawing-room,  in  a 
well-lit  solitude  that  was  unusually  dispiriting  to  her.  Pretty 
as  this  room  was,  she  did  not  like  it.  Mrs.  Transome's  full- 
length  portrait,  being  the  only  picture  there,  urged  itself  too 
strongly  on  her  attention:  the  youthful  brilliancy  it  repre- 
sented saddened  Esther  by  its  inevitable  association  with  what 
she  daily  saw  had  come  instead  of  it  —  a  joyless,  embittered 
age.  The  sense  that  Mrs.  Transome  was  unhappy,  affected 
Esther  more  and  more  deeply  as  the  growing  familiarity  which 
relaxed  the  efforts  of  the  hostess  revealed  more  and  more 
the  threadbare  tissue  of  this  majestic  lady's  life.  Even 
the  flowers  and  the  pure  sunshine  and  the  sweet  waters  of 
Paradise  would  have  been  spoiled  for  a  young  heart,  if  the 
bowered  walks  had  been  haunted  by  an  Eve  gone  gray  with 
bitter  memories  of  an  Adam  who  had  complained,  "The 
woman  .  .  .  she  gave  me  of  the  tree,  and  I  did  eat."  And 
many  of  us  know  how,  even  in  our  childhood,  some  blank  dis- 
contented face  on  the  background  of  our  home  has  marred  our 
summer  mornings.  Why  was  it,  when  the  birds  were  singing, 
when  the  fields  were  a  garden,  and  when  we  were  clasping 
another  little  hand  just  larger  than  our  own,  there  was  some- 
body who  found  it  hard  to  smile  ?  Esther  had  got  far  beyond 
that  childhood  to  a  time  and  circumstances  when  this  daily 
presence  of  elderly  dissatisfaction  amidst  such  outward  things 
as  she  had  always  thought  must  greatly  help  to  satisfy, 
awaked,  not  merely  vague  questioning  emotion,  but  strong 
determining  thought.  And  now,  in  these  hours  since  her 
return  from  Loamford,  her  mind  was  in  that  state  of  highly 
wrought  activity,  that  large  discourse,  in  which  we  seem  to 
stand  aloof  from  our  own  life  —  weighing  impartially  our  own 
temptations  and  the  weak  desires  that  most  habitually  solicit 
us.  "I  think  I  am  getting  that  power  Felix  wished  me  to 
have :  I  shall  soon  see  strong  visions,"  she  said  to  herself, 
with  a  melancholy  smile  flitting  across  her  face,  as  she  put 
out  the  wax  lights  that  she  might  get  rid  of  the  oppressive 
urgency  of  walls  and  upholstery  and  that  portrait  smiling 
with  deluded  brightness,  unwitting  of  the  future. 
Just  then  Dominic  came  to  say  that  Mr.  Harold  sent  his 


FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL.  475 

compliments,  and  begged  that  she  would  grant  him  an  inter- 
view in  his  study.  He  disliked  the  small  drawing-room:  if 
she  would  oblige  him  by  going  to  the  study  at  once,  he  would 
join  her  very  soon.  Esther  went,  in  some  wonder  and  anx- 
iety. What  she  most  feared  or  hoped  in  these  moments 
related  to  Felix  Holt,  and  it  did  not  occur  to  her  that  Harold 
could  have  anything  special  to  say  to  her  that  evening  on  other 
subjects. 

Certainly  the  study  was  pleasanter  than  the  small  drawing- 
room.  A  quiet  light  shone  on  nothing  but  greenness  and  dark 
wood,  and  Dominic  had  placed  a  delightful  chair  for  her  oppo- 
site to  his  master's,  which  was  still  empty.  All  the  little 
objects  of  luxury  around  indicated  Harold's  habitual  occu- 
pancy ;  and  as  Esther  sat  opposite  all  these  things  along  with 
the  empty  chair  which  suggested  the  coming  presence,  the 
expectation  of  his  beseeching  homage  brought  with  it  an  im- 
patience and  repugnance  which  she  had  never  felt  before. 
While  these  feelings  were  strongly  upon  her,  the  door  opened 
and  Harold  appeared. 

He  had  recovered  his  self-possession  since  his  interview  with 
his  mother :  he  had  dressed  and  was  perfectly  calm.  He  had 
been  occupied  with  resolute  thoughts,  determining  to  do  what 
he  knew  that  perfect  honor  demanded,  let  it  cost  him  what  it 
would.  It  is  true  he  had  a  tacit  hope  behind,  that  it  might 
not  cost  him  what  he  prized  most  highly  :  it  is  true  he  had 
a  glimpse  even  of  reward ;  but  it  was  not  less  true  that  he 
would  have  acted  as  he  did  without  that  hope  or  glimpse.  It 
was  the  most  serious  moment  in  Harold  Transome's  life :  for 
the  first  time  the  iron  had  entered  into  his  soul,  and  he  felt 
the  hard  pressure  of  our  common  lot,  the  yoke  of  that  mighty 
resistless  destiny  laid  upon  us  by  the  acts  of  other  men  as 
well  as  our  own. 

When  Esther  looked  at  him  she  relented,  and  felt  ashamed 
of  her  gratuitous  impatience.  She  saw  that  his  mind  was  in 
some  way  burdened.  But  then  immediately  sprang  the  dread 
that  he  had  to  say  something  hopeless  about  Felix. 

They  shook  hands  in  silence,  Esther  looking  at  him  with 
anxious  surprise.  He  released  her  hand,  but  it  did  not  occur 


476  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL. 

to  her  to  sit  down,  and  they  both  continued  standing  on  the 
hearth. 

"  Don't  let  me  alarm  you,"  said  Harold,  seeing  that  her  face 
gathered  solemnity  from  his.  "  I  suppose  I  carry  the  marks 
of  a  past  agitation.  It  relates  entirely  to  troubles  of  my  own 
—  of  my  own  family.  No  one  beyond  is  involved  in  them." 

Esther  wondered  still  more,  and  felt  still  more  relenting. 

"  But,"  said  Harold,  after  a  slight  pause,  and  in  a  voice  that 
was  weighted  with  new  feeling,  "it  involves  a  difference  in 
my  position  with  regard  to  you ;  and  it  is  on  this  point  that 
I  wished  to  speak  to  you  at  once.  When  a  man  sees  what 
ought  to  be  done,  he  had  better  do  it  forthwith.  He  can't 
answer  for  himself  to-morrow." 

While  Esther  continued  to  look  at  him,  with  eyes  widened 
by  anxious  expectation,  Harold  turned  a  little,  leaned  on  the 
mantel-piece,  and  ceased  to  look  at  her  as  he  spoke. 

"  My  feelings  drag  me  another  way.  I  need  not  tell  you 
that  your  regard  has  become  very  important  to  me  —  that  if 
our  mutual  position  had  been  different  —  that,  in  short,  you 
must  have  seen  —  if  it  had  not  seemed  to  be  a  matter  of 
worldly  interest,  I  should  have  told  you  plainly  already  that  I 
loved  you,  and  that  my  happiness  could  be  complete  only  if 
you  would  consent  to  marry  me." 

Esther  felt  her  heart  beginning  to  beat  painfully.  Harold's 
voice  and  words  moved  her  so  much  that  her  own  task  seemed 
more  difficult  than  she  had  before  imagined.  It  seemed  as  if 
the  silence,  unbroken  by  anything  but  the  clicking  of  the  fire, 
had  been  long,  before  Harold  turned  round  towards  her  again 
and  said  — 

"  But  to-day  I  have  heard  something  that  affects  my  own 
position.  I  cannot  tell  you  what  it  is.  There  is  no  need.  It 
is  not  any  culpability  of  my  own.  But  I  have  not  just  the 
same  unsullied  name  and  fame  in  the  eyes  of  the  world 
around  us,  as  I  believed  that  I  had  when  I  allowed  myself  to 
entertain  that  wish  about  you.  You  are  very  young,  entering 
on  a  fresh  life  with  bright  prospects  —  you  are  worthy  of 
everything  that  is  best.  I  may  be  too  vain  in  thinking  it 
was  at  all  necessary ;  but  I  take  this  precaution  against 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  EADICAL.  477 

myself.  I  shut  myself  out  from  the  chance  of  trying,  after 
to-day,  to  induce  you  to  accept  anything  which  others  may 
regard  as  specked  and  stained  by  any  obloquy,  however 
slight." 

Esther  was  keenly  touched.  With  a  paradoxical  longing, 
such  as  often  happens  to  us,  she  wished  at  that  moment  that 
she  could  have  loved  this  man  with  her  whole  heart.  The 
tears  came  into  her  eyes ;  she  did  not  speak,  but,  with  an 
angel's  tenderness  in  her  face,  she  laid  her  hand  on  his  sleeve. 
Harold  commanded  himself  strongly,  and  said  — 

"  What  is  to  be  done  now  is,  that  we  should  proceed  at  once 
to  the  necessary  legal  measures  for  putting  you  in  possession 
of  your  own,  and  arranging  mutual  claims.  After  that  I  shall 
probably  leave  England." 

Esther  was  oppressed  by  an  overpowering  difficulty.  Her 
sympathy  with  Harold  at  this  moment  was  so  strong,  that  it 
spread  itself  like  a  mist  over  all  previous  thought  and  re- 
solve. It  was  impossible  now  to  wound  him  afresh.  With 
her  hand  still  resting  on  his  arm,  she  said,  timidly  — 

"  Should  you  be  urged  —  obliged  to  go  —  in  any  case  ?  " 

"  Not  in  every  case,  perhaps,"  Harold  said,  with  an  evident 
movement  of  the  blood  towards  his  face ;  "  at  least  not  for 
long,  not  for  always." 

Esther  was  conscious  of  the  gleam  in  his  eyes.  With 
terror  at  herself,  she  said,  in  difficult  haste,  "  I  can't  speak.  I 
can't  say  anything  to-night.  A  great  decision  has  to  be  made : 
I  must  wait  —  till  to-morrow." 

She  was  moving  her  hand  from  his  arm,  when  Harold  took 
it  reverentially  and  raised  it  to  his  lips.  She  turned  towards 
her  chair,  and  as  he  released  her  hand  she  sank  down  on  the 
seat  with  a  sense  that  she  needed  that  support.  She  did  not 
want  to  go  away  from  Harold  yet.  All  the  while  there  was 
something  she  needed  to  know,  and  yet  she  could  not  bring 
herself  to  ask  it.  She  must  resign  herself  to  depend  entirely 
on  his  recollection  of  anything  beyond  his  own  immediate 
trial.  She  sat  helpless  under  contending  sympathies,  while 
Harold  stood  at  some  distance  from  her,  feeling  more 
harassed  by  weariness  and  uncertainty,  now  that  he  had 


478  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

fulfilled  his  resolve,  and  was  no  longer  under  the  excitement 
of  actually  fulfilling  it. 

Esther's  last  words  had  forbidden  his  revival  of  the  subject 
that  was  necessarily  supreme  with  him.  But  still  she  sat 
there,  and  his  mind,  busy  as  to  the  probabilities  of  her  feeling, 
glanced  over  all  she  had  done  and  said  in  the  later  days  of 
their  intercourse.  It  was  this  retrospect  that  led  him  to  say 
at  last  — 

"  You  will  be  glad  to  hear  that  we  shall  get  a  very  power- 
fully signed  memorial  to  the  Home  Secretary  about  young 
Holt.  I  think  your  speaking  for  him  helped  a  great  deal. 
You  made  all  the  men  wish  what  you  wished." 

This  was  what  Esther  had  been  yearning  to  hear  and  dared 
not  ask,  as  well  from  respect  for  Harold's  absorption  in  his 
own  sorrow,  as  from  the  shrinking  that  belongs  to  our  dearest 
need.  The  intense  relief  of  hearing  what  she  longed  to  hear, 
affected  her  whole  frame:  her  color,  her  expression,  changed 
as  if  she  had  been  suddenly  freed  from  some  torturing  con- 
straint. But  we  interpret  signs  of  emotion  as  we  interpret 
other  signs  —  often  quite  erroneously,  unless  we  have  the 
right  key  to  what  they  signify.  Harold  did  not  gather  that 
this  was  what  Esther  had  waited  for,  or  that  the  change  in 
her  indicated  more  than  he  had  expected  her  to  feel  at  this 
allusion  to  an  unusual  act  which  she  had  done  under  a  strong 
impulse. 

Besides  the  introduction  of  a  new  subject  after  very  momen- 
tous words  have  passed,  and  are  still  dwelling  on  the  mind, 
is  necessarily  a  sort  of  concussion,  shaking  us  into  a  new 
adjustment  of  ourselves. 

It  seemed  natural  that  soon  afterward  Esther  put  out  her 
hand  and  said,  "  Good-night." 

Harold  went  to  his  bedroom  on  the  same  level  with  his 
study,  thinking  of  the  morning  with  an  uncertainty  that 
dipped  on  the  side  of  hope.  This  sweet  woman,  for  whom  he 
felt  a  passion  newer  than  any  he  had  expected  to  feel,  might 
possibly  make  some  hard  things  more  bearable  —  if  she  loved 
him.  If  not  —  well,  he  had  acted  so  that  he  could  defy  any 
one  to  say  he  was  not  a  gentleman. 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  479 

Esther  went  up-stairs  to  her  bedroom,  thinking  that  she 
should  not  sleep  that  night.  She  set  her  light  on  a  high 
stand,  and  did  not  touch  her  dress.  What  she  desired  to  see 
with  undisturbed  clearness  were  things  not  present :  the  rest 
she  needed  was  the  rest  of  a  final  choice.  It  was  difficult. 
On  each  side  there  was  renunciation. 

She  drew  up  her  blinds,  liking  to  see  the  gray  sky,  where 
there  were  some  veiled  glimmerings  of  moonlight,  and  the 
lines  of  the  forever  running  river,  and  the  bending  movement 
of  the  black  trees.  She  wanted  the  largeness  of  the  world 
to  help  her  thought.  This  young  creature,  who  trod  lightly 
backward  and  forward,  and  leaned  against  the  window-frame, 
and  shook  back  her  brown  curls  as  she  looked  at  something 
not  visible,  had  lived  hardly  more  than  six  months  since  she 
saw  Felix  Holt  for  the  first  time.  But  life  is  measured  by 
the  rapidity  of  change,  the  succession  of  influences  that  modify 
the  being ;  and  Esther  had  undergone  something  little  short 
of  an  inward  revolution.  The  revolutionary  struggle,  however, 
was  not  quite  at  an  end. 

There  was  something  which  she  now  felt  profoundly  to  be 
the  best  thing  that  life  could  give  her.  But  —  if  it  was  to  be 
had  at  all  —  it  was  not  to  be  had  without  paying  a  heavy 
price  for  it,  such  as  we  must  pay  for  all  that  is  greatly  good. 
A  supreme  love,  a  motive  that  gives  a  sublime  rhythm  to  a 
woman's  life,  and  exalts  habit  into  partnership  with  the  soul's 
highest  needs,  is  not  to  be  had  where  and  how  she  wills  :  to 
know  that  high  initiation,  she  must  often  tread  where  it  is 
hard  to  tread,  and  feel  the  chill  air,  and  watch  through  dark- 
ness. It  is  not  true  that  love  makes  all  things  easy  :  it  makes 
us  choose  what  is  difficult.  Esther's  previous  life  had  brought 
her  into  close  acquaintance  with  many  negations,  and  with 
many  positive  ills  too,  not  of  the  acutely  painful,  but  of  the 
distasteful  sort.  What  if  she  chose  the  hardship,  and  had  to 
bear  it  alone,  with  no  strength  to  lean  upon  —  no  other  better 
self  to  make  a  place  for  trust  and  joy  ?  Her  past  experience 
saved  her  from  illusions.  She  knew  the  dim  life  of  the  back 
street,  the  contact  with  sordid  vulgarity,  the  lack  of  refine- 
ment for  the  senses,  the  summons  to  a  daily  task ;  and  the 


480  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL. 

gain  that  was  to  make  that  life  of  privation  something  on 
which  she  dreaded  to  turn  her  back,  as  if  it  were  heaven  — 
the  presence  and  the  love  of  Felix  Holt  —  was  only  a  quiv- 
ering hope,  not  a  certainty.  It  was  not  in  her  woman's 
nature  that  the  hope  should  not  spring  within  her  and  make 
a  strong  impulse.  She  knew  that  he  loved  her :  had  he  not 
said  how  a  woman  might  help  a  man  if  she  were  worthy  ? 
and  if  she  proved  herself  worthy  ?  But  still  there  was  the 
dread  that  after  all  she  might  find  herself  on  the  stony  road 
alone,  and  faint  and  be  weary.  Even  with  the  fulfilment 
of  her  hope,  she  knew  that  she  pledged  herself  to  meet  high 
demands. 

And  on  the  other  side  there  was  a  lot  where  everything 
seemed  easy  —  but  for  the  fatal  absence  of  those  feelings 
which,  now  she  had  once  known  them,  it  seemed  nothing  less 
than  a  fall  and  a  degradation  to  do  without.  With  a  terrible 
prescience  which  a  multitude  of  impressions  during  her  stay 
at  Transome  Court  had  contributed  to  form,  she  saw  herself 
in  a  silken  bondage  that  arrested  all  motive,  and  was  nothing 
better  than  a  well-cushioned  despair.  To  be  restless  amidst 
ease,  to  be  languid  among  all  appliances  for  pleasure,  was  a 
possibility  that  seemed  to  haunt  the  rooms  of  this  house,  and 
wander  with  her  under  the  oaks  and  elms  of  the  park.  And 
Harold  Transome's  love,  no  longer  a  hovering  fancy  with  which 
she  played,  but  become  a  serious  fact,  seemed  to  threaten  her 
with  a  stifling  oppression.  The  homage  of  a  man  may  be 
delightful  until  he  asks  straight  for  love,  by  which  a  woman 
renders  homage.  Since  she  and  Felix  had  kissed  each  other 
in  the  prison,  she  felt  as  if  she  had  vowed  herself  away,  as  if 
memory  lay  on  her  lips  like  a  seal  of  possession.  Yet  what 
had  happened  that  very  evening  had  strengthened  her  liking 
for  Harold,  and  her  care  for  all  that  regarded  him  :  it  had  in- 
creased her  repugnance  to  turning  him  out  of  anything  he  had 
expected  to  be  his,  or  to  snatching  anything  from  him  on  the 
ground  of  an  arbitrary  claim.  It  had  even  made  her  dread, 
as  a  coming  pain,  the  task  of  saying  anything  to  him  that  was 
not  a  promise  of  the  utmost  comfort  under  this  newly  disclosed 
trouble  of  his. 


FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL.  481 

It  was  already  near  midnight,  but  with,  these  thoughts  suc- 
ceeding and  returning  in  her  mind  like  scenes  through  which 
she  was  living,  Esther  had  a  more  intense  wakefuluess  than 
any  she  had  known  by  day.  All  had  been  stillness  hitherto, 
except  the  fitful  wind  outside.  But  her  ears  now  caught  a 
sound  within  —  slight,  but  sudden.  She  moved  near  her  door, 
and  heard  the  sweep  of  something  on  the  matting  outside. 
It  came  closer,  and  paused.  Then  it  began  again,  and  seemed 
to  sweep  away  from  her.  Then  it  approached,  and  paused  as 
it  had  done  before.  Esther  listened,  wondering.  The  same 
thing  happened  again  and  again,  till  she  could  bear  it  no 
longer.  She  opened  her  door,  and  in  the  dim  light  of  the  cor- 
ridor, where  the  glass  above  seemed  to  make  a  glimmering 
sky,  she  saw  Mrs.  Transome's  tall  figure  pacing  slowly,  with 
her  cheek  upon  her  hand. 


CHAPTER  L. 

The  great  question  in  life  is  the  suffering  we  cause ;  and  the  utmost  in- 
genuity of  metaphysics  cannot  justify  the  man  who  has  pierced  the  heart  that 
loved  him.  —  BENJAMIN  CONSTANT. 

WHEN  Denner  had  gone  up  to  her  mistress's  room  to  dress 
her  for  dinner,  she  had  found  her  seated  just  as  Harold  had 
found  her,  only  with  eyelids  drooping  and  trembling  over 
slowly  rolling  tears  —  nay,  with  a  face  in  which  every  sen- 
sitive feature,  every  muscle,  seemed  to  be  quivering  with  a 
silent  endurance  of  some  agony. 

Denner  went  and  stood  by  the  chair  a  minute  without 
speaking,  only  laying  her  hand  gently  on  Mrs.  Trausome's. 
At  last  she  said,  beseechingly,  "  Pray,  speak,  madam.  What 
has  happened  ?  " 

"  The  worst,  Denner  —  the  worst." 

"  You  are  ill.     Let  me  undress  you,  and  put  you  to  bed." 

VOL     III.  31 


482  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

"  No,  I  am  not  ill.  I  am  not  going  to  die  !  I  shall  live  — 
I  shall  live  !  " 

«  What  may  I  do  ?  " 

"  Go  and  say  I  shall  not  dine.  Then  you  may  come  back, 
if  you  will." 

The  patient  waiting-woman  came  back  and  sat  by  her  mis- 
tress in  motionless  silence.  Mrs.  Transome  would  not  let  her 
dress  be  touched,  and  waved  away  all  proffers  with  a  slight 
movement  of  her  hand.  Denner  dared  not  even  light  a  candle 
without  being  told.  At  last,  when  the  evening  was  far  gone, 
Mrs.  Transome  said  — 

"  Go  down,  Denner,  and  find  out  where  Harold  is,  and  come 
back  and  tell  me." 

"  Shall  I  ask  him  to  come  to  you,  madam  ?  " 

"  No ;  don't  dare  to  do  it,  if  you  love  me.     Come  back." 

Denner  brought  word  that  Mr.  Harold  was  in  his  study,  and 
that  Miss  Lyon  was  with  him.  He  had  not  dined,  but  had 
sent  later  to  ask  Miss  Lyon  to  go  into  his  study. 

"Light  the  candles  and  leave  me." 

"  May  n't  I  come  again  ?  " 

"  No.     It  may  be  that  my  son  will  come  to  me." 

"  May  n't  I  sleep  on  the  little  bed  in  your  bedroom  ?  " 

"  No,  good  Deimer  ;  I  am  not  ill.     You  can't  help  me." 

"  That 's  the  hardest  word  of  all,  madam." 

"  The  time  will  come  —  but  not  now.     Kiss  me.    Now  go." 

The  small  quiet  old  woman  obeyed,  as  she  had  always  done. 
She  shrank  from  seeming  to  claim  an  equal's  share  in  her 
mistress's  sorrow. 

For  two  hours  Mrs.  Transome's  mind  hung  on  what  was 
hardly  a  hope  —  hardly  more  than  the  listening  for  a  bare 
possibility.  She  began  to  create  the  sounds  that  her  anguish 
craved  to  hear  —  began  to  imagine  a  footfall,  and  a  hand  upon 
the  door.  Then,  checked  by  continual  disappointment,  she 
tried  to  rouse  a  truer  consciousness  by  rising  from  her  seat 
and  walking  to  her  window,  where  she  saw  streaks  of  light 
moving  and  disappearing  on  the  grass,  and  heard  the  sound  of 
bolts  and  closing  doors.  She  hurried  away  and  threw  herself 
into  her  seat  again,  and  buried  her  head  in  the  deafening 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  483 

down  of  the  cushions.  There  was  no  sound  of  comfort  for 
her. 

Then  her  heart  cried  out  within  her  against  the  cruelty  of 
this  son.  When  he  turned  from  her  in  the  first  moment,  he 
had  not  had  time  to  feel  anything  but  the  blow  that  had  fallen 
on  himself.  But  afterwards  —  was  it  possible  that  he  should 
not  be  touched  with  a  son's  pity  —  was  it  possible  that  he 
should  not  have  been  visited  by  some  thought  of  the  long 
years  through  which  she  had  suffered  ?  The  memory  of  those 
years  came  back  to  her  now  with  a  protest  against  the  cruelty 
that  had  all  fallen  on  her.  She  started  up  with  a  new  rest- 
lessness from  this  spirit  of  resistance.  She  was  not  penitent. 
She  had  borne  too  hard  a  punishment.  Always  the  edge  of 
calamity  had  fallen  on  her.  Who  had  felt  for  her  ?  She  was 
desolate.  God  had  no  pity,  else  her  son  would  not  have  been 
so  hard.  What  dreary  future  was  there  after  this  dreary  past  ? 
She,  too,  looked  out  into  the  dim  night ;  but  the  black  boun- 
dary of  trees  and  the  long  line  of  the  river  seemed  only  part 
of  the  loneliness  and  monotony  of  her  life. 

Suddenly  she  saw  a  light  on  the  stone  balustrades  of  the 
balcony  that  projected  in  front  of  Esther's  window,  and  the 
flash  of  a  moving  candle  falling  on  a  shrub  below.  Esther 
was  still  awake  and  up.  What  had  Harold  told  her  —  what 
had  passed  between  them  ?  Harold  was  fond  of  this  young 
creature,  who  had  been  always  sweet  and  reverential  to  her. 
There  was  mercy  in  her  young  heart ;  she  might  be  a  daughter 
who  had  no  impulse  to  punish  and  to  strike  her  whom  fate 
had  stricken.  On  the  dim  loneliness  before  her  she  seemed  to 
see  Esther's  gentle  look ;  it  was  possible  still  that  the  misery 
of  this  night  might  be  broken  by  some  comfort.  The  proud 
woman  yearned  for  the  caressing  pity  that  must  dwell  in  that 
young  bosom.  She  opened  her  door  gently,  but  when  she  had 
reached  Esther's  she  hesitated.  She  had  never  yet  in  her  life 
asked  for  compassion  —  had  never  thrown  herself  in  faith  on 
an  unproffered  love.  And  she  might  have  gone  on  pacing  the 
corridor  like  an  uneasy  spirit  without  a  goal,  if  Esther's 
thought,  leaping  towards  her,  had  not  saved  her  from  the 
need  to  ask  admission. 


484  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  KADICAL. 

Mrs.  Transome  was  walking  towards  the  door  when  it 
opened.  As  Esther  saw  that  image  of  restless  misery,  it  blent 
itself  by  a  rapid  flash  with  all  that  Harold  had  said  in  the 
evening.  She  divined  that  the  son's  new  trouble  must  be  one 
with  the  mother's  long  sadness.  But  there  was  no  waiting. 
In  an  instant  Mrs.  Transome  felt  Esther's  arm  round  her  neck, 
and  a  voice  saying  softly  — 

"  Oh,  why  did  n't  you  call  me  before  ?  " 

They  turned  hand  and  hand  into  the  room,  and  sat  down 
together  on  a  sofa  at  the  foot  of  the  bed.  The  disordered  gray 
hair  —  the  haggard  face  —  the  reddened  eyelids  under  which 
the  tears  seemed  to  be  coming  again  with  pain,  pierced  Esther 
to  the  heart.  A  passionate  desire  to  soothe  this  suffering 
woman  came  over  her.  She  clung  round  her  again,  and  kissed 
her  poor  quivering  lips  and  eyelids,  and  laid  her  young  cheek 
against  the  pale  and  haggard  one.  Words  could  not  be  quick 
or  strong  enough  to  utter  her  yearning.  As  Mrs.  Transome 
felt  that  soft  clinging,  she  said  — 

"  God  has  some  pity  on  me." 

"  Eest  on  my  bed,"  said  Esther.  "  You  are  so  tired.  I  will 
cover  you  up  warmly,  and  then  you  will  sleep." 

"No — tell  me,  dear  —  tell  me  what  Harold  said." 

"  That  he  has  had  some  new  trouble." 

"  He  said  nothing  hard  about  me  ?  " 

"  No  —  nothing.     He  did  not  mention  you." 

"  I  have  been  an  unhappy  woman,  dear." 

"  I  feared  it,"  said  Esther,  pressing  her  gently. 

"  Men  are  selfish.  They  are  selfish  and  cruel.  What  they 
care  for  is  their  own  pleasure  and  their  own  pride." 

"Not  all,"  said  Esther,  on  whom  these  words  fell  with  a 
painful  jar. 

"  All  I  have  ever  loved,"  said  Mrs.  Transome.  She  paused 
a  moment  or  two,  and  then  said,  "  For  more  than  twenty  years 
I  have  not  had  an  hour's  happiness.  Harold  knows  it,  and 
yet  he  is  hard  to  me." 

"  He  will  not  be.  To-morrow  he  will  not  be.  I  am  sure  he 
will  be  good,"  said  Esther,  pleadingly.  "  Remember  —  he 
said  to  me  his  trouble  was  new  —  he  has  not  had  time." 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  485 

"  It  is  too  hard  to  bear,  dear,"  Mrs.  Transome  said,  a  new 
sob  rising  as  she  clung  fast  to  Esther  in  return.  "  I  am  old, 
and  expect  so  little  now  —  a  very  little  thing  would  seem 
great.  Why  should  I  be  punished  any  more  ?  " 

Esther  found  it  difficult  to  speak.  The  dimly  suggested 
tragedy  of  this  woman's  life,  the  dreary  waste  of  years  empty 
of  sweet  trust  and  affection,  afflicted  her  even  to  horror.  It 
seemed  to  have  come  as  a  last  vision  to  urge  her  towards  the 
life  where  the  draughts  of  joy  sprang  from  the  unchanging 
fountains  of  reverence  and  devout  love. 

But  all  the  more  she  longed  to  still  the  pain  of  this  heart 
that  beat  against  hers. 

"  Do  let  me  go  to  your  own  room  with  you,  and  let  me  un- 
dress you,  and  let  me  tend  upon  you,"  she  said,  with  a  woman's 
gentle  instinct.  "  It  will  be  a  very  great  thing  to  me.  I  shall 
seem  to  have  a  mother  again.  Do  let  me." 

Mrs.  Transome  yielded  at  last,  and  let  Esther  soothe  her 
with  a  daughter's  tendance.  She  was  undressed  and  went  to 
bed ;  and  at  last  dozed  fitfully,  with  frequent  starts.  But 
Esther  watched  by  her  till  the  chills  of  morning  came,  and 
then  she  only  wrapped  more  warmth  around  her,  and  slept 
fast  in  the  chair  till  Denner's  movement  in  the  room  roused 
her.  She  started  out  of  a  dream  in  which  she  was  telling  Felix 
what  had  happened  to  her  that  night. 

Mrs.  Transome  was  now  in  the  sounder  morning  sleep  which 
sometimes  comes  after  a  long  night  of  misery.  Esther  beck- 
oned Denner  into  the  dressing-room,  and  said  — 

"  It  is  late,  Mrs.  Hickes.  Do  you  think  Mr.  Harold  is  out  of 
his  room  ?  " 

"  Yes,  a  long  while ;  he  was  out  earlier  than  usual." 

"  Will  you  ask  him  to  come  up  here  ?     Say  I  begged  you." 

When  Harold  entered,  Esther  was  leaning  against  the  back 
of  the  empty  chair  where  yesterday  he  had  seen  his  mother 
sitting.  He  was  in  a  state  of  wonder  and  suspense,  and  when 
Esther  approached  him  and  gave  him  her  hand,  he  said,  in  a 
startled  way  — 

"  Good  God  !  how  ill  you  look  !  Have  you  been  sitting  up 
with  my  mother  ?  " 


486  FELIX   HOLT,    THE   RADICAL. 

"  Yes.  She  is  asleep  now,"  said  Esther.  They  had  merely 
pressed  hands  by  way  of  greeting,  and  now  stood  apart  look- 
ing at  each  other  solemnly. 

"  Has  she  told  you  anything  ?  "  said  Harold. 

"No  —  only  that  she  is  wretched.  Oh,  I  think  I  would 
bear  a  great  deal  of  unhappiness  to  save  her  from  having  any 
more." 

A  painful  thrill  passed  through  Harold,  and  showed  itself 
in  his  face  with  that  pale  rapid  flash  which  can  never  be 
painted.  Esther  pressed  her  hands  together,  and  said,  timidly, 
though  it  was  from  an  urgent  prompting  — 

"  There  is  nothing  in  all  this  place  —  nothing  since  ever 
I  came  here  —  I  could  care  for  so  much  as  that  you  should 
sit  down  by  her  now,  and  that  she  should  see  you  when  she 
wakes." 

Then  with  delicate  instinct,  she  added,  just  laying  her  hand 
on  his  sleeve,  "  I  know  you  would  have  come.  I  know  you 
meant  it.  But  she  is  asleep  now.  Go  gently  before  she 
wakes." 

Harold  just  laid  his  right  hand  for  an  instant  on  the  back  of 
Esther's  as  it  rested  on  his  sleeve,  and  then  stepped  softly  to 
his  mother's  bedside. 

An  hour  afterwards,  when  Harold  had  laid  his  mother's  pil- 
low afresh,  and  sat  down  again  by  her,  she  said  — 

"If  that  dear  thing  will  marry  you,  Harold,  it  will  make  up 
to  you  for  a  great  deal." 

But  before  the  day  closed  Harold  knew  that  this  was  not  to 
be.  That  young  presence,  which  had  flitted  like  a  white  new- 
winged  dove  over  all  the  saddening  relics  and  new  finery  of 
Transome  Court,  could  not  find  its  home  there.  Harold  heard 
from  Esther's  lips  that  she  loved  some  one  else,  and  that  she 
resigned  all  claim  to  the  Transome  estates. 

She  wished  to  go  back  to  her  father. 


FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL.  487 


CHAPTER  LI. 

The  maiden  said,  I  wis  the  londe 

Is  very  fair  to  see, 
But  my  true-love  that  is  in  bonde 

Is  fairer  still  to  me. 

ONE  April  day,  when  the  sun  shone  on  the  lingering  rain- 
drops, Lyddy  was  gone  out,  and  Esther  chose  to  sit  in  the 
kitchen,  in  the  wicker  chair  against  the  white  table,  between 
the  fire  and  the  window.  The  kettle  was  singing,  and  the 
clock  was  ticking  steadily  towards  four  o'clock. 

She  was  not  reading,  but  stitching ;  and  as  her  fingers 
moved  nimbly,  something  played  about  her  parted  lips  like  a 
ray.  Suddenly  she  laid  down  her  work,  pressed  her  hauds 
together  on  her  knees,  and  bent  forward  a  little.  The  next 
moment  there  came  a  loud  rap  at  the  door.  She  started  up 
and  opened  it,  but  kept  herself  hidden  behind  it. 

"  Mr.  Lyon  at  home  ?  "  said  Felix,  in  his  firm  tones. 

"  No,  sir,"  said  Esther  from  behind  her  screen ;  "  but  Miss 
Lyon  is,  if  you  '11  please  to  walk  in." 

"  Esther !  "  exclaimed  Felix,  amazed. 

They  held  each  other  by  both  hands,  and  looked  into  each 
other's  faces  with  delight. 

"  You  are  out  of  prison  ?  " 

"Yes,  till  I  do  something  bad  again.  But  you? — how  is 
it  all  ?  " 

"Oh,  it  is,"  said  Esther,  smiling  brightly  as  she  moved 
towards  the  wicker  chair,  and  seated  herself  again,  "that 
everything  is  as  usual :  my  father  is  gone  to  see  the  sick ; 
Lyddy  is  gone  in  deep  despondency  to  buy  the  grocery ;  and 
I  am  sitting  here,  with  some  vanity  in  me,  needing  to  be 
scolded." 

Felix  had  seated  himself  on  a  chair  that  happened  to  be 
near  her,  at  the  corner  of  the  table.  He  looked  at  her  still 
with  questioning  eyes — he  grave,  she  mischievously  smiling. 


488  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

"  Are  you  come  back  to  live  here  then  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  You  are  not  going  to  be  married  to  Harold  Transome,  or 
to  be  rich  ?  " 

"Xo."  Something  made  Esther  take  up  her  work  again, 
and  begin  to  stitch.  The  smiles  were  dying  into  a  tremor. 

"  Why  ? "  said  Felix,  in  rather  a  low  tone,  leaning  his 
elbow  on  the  table,  and  resting  his  head  on  his  hand  while 
he  looked  at  her. 

"  I  did  not  wish  to  marry  him,  or  to  be  rich." 

"  You  have  given  it  all  up  ?  "  said  Felix,  leaning  forward 
a  little,  and  speaking  in  a  still  lower  tone. 

Esther  did  not  speak.  They  heard  the  kettle  singing  and 
the  clock  loudly  ticking.  There  was  no  knowing  how  it  was  : 
Esther's  work  fell,  their  eyes  met ;  and  the  next  instant  their 
arms  were  round  each  other's  necks,  and  once  more  they  kissed 
each  other. 

When  their  hands  fell  again,  their  eyes  were  bright  with 
tears.  Felix  laid  his  hand  on  her  shoulder. 

"  Could  you  share  the  life  of  a  poor  man,  then,  Esther  ?  " 

"  If  I  thought  well  enough  of  him,"  she  said,  the  smile  com- 
ing again,  with  the  pretty  saucy  movement  of  her  head. 

"  Have  you  considered  well  what  it  would  be  ?  —  that  it 
would  be  a  very  bare  and  simple  life  ?  " 

"  Yes  —  without  atta  of  roses." 

Felix  suddenly  removed  his  hand  from  her  shoulder,  rose 
from  his  chair,  and  walked  a  step  or  two ;  then  he  turned 
round  and  said,  with  deep  gravity  — 

"  And  the  people  I  shall  live  among,  Esther  ?  They  have 
not  just  the  same  follies  and  vices  as  the  rich,  but  they  have 
their  own  forms  of  folly  and  vice  ;  and  they  have  not  what  are 
called  the  refinements  of  the  rich  to  make  their  faults  more 
bearable.  I  don't  say  more  bearable  to  me  —  I  'm  not  fond 
of  those  refinements  ;  but  you  are." 

Felix  paused  an  instant,  and  then  added  — 

"  It  is  very  serious,  Esther." 

"  I  know  it  is  serious,"  said  Esther,  looking  up  at  him. 
"Since  I  have  been  at  Transome  Court  I  have  seen  many 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  489 

things  very  seriously.  If  I  had  not,  I  should  not  have  left 
what  I  did  leave.  I  made  a  deliberate  choice." 

Felix  stood  a  moment  or  two,  dwelling  on  her  with  a  face 
where  the  gravity  gathered  tenderness. 

"  And  these  curls  ?  "  he  said,  with  a  sort  of  relenting,  seat- 
ing himself  again,  and  putting  his  hand  on  them. 

"They  cost  nothing  —  they  are  natural." 

"You  are  such  a  delicate  creature." 

"  I  am  very  healthy.  Poor  women,  I  think,  are  healthier 
than  the  rich.  Besides,"  Esther  went  on,  with  a  mischievous 
meaning,  "  I  think  of  having  some  wealth." 

"  How  ?  "  said  Felix,  with  an  anxious  start.  "  What  do  you 
mean  ?  " 

"  I  think  even  of  two  pounds  a-week  :  one  need  n't  live  up 
to  the  splendor  of  all  that,  you  know ;  we  might  live  as  simply 
as  you  liked :  there  would  be  money  to  spare,  and  you  could 
do  wonders,  and  be  obliged  to  work  too,  only  not  if  sickness 
came.  And  then  I  think  of  a  little  income  for  your  mother, 
enough  for  her  to  live  as  she  has  been  used  to  live ;  and  a 
little  income  for  my  father,  to  save  him  from  being  dependent 
when  he  is  no  longer  able  to  preach." 

Esther  said  all  this  in  a  playful  tone,  but  she  ended,  with  a 
grave  look  of  appealing  submission  — 

"  I  mean  —  if  you  approve.  I  wish  to  do  what  you  think  it 
will  be  right  to  do." 

Felix  put  his  hand  on  her  shoulder  again  and  reflected  a 
little  while,  looking  on  the  hearth :  then  he  said,  lifting  up 
his  eyes,  with  a  smile  at  her  — 

"  Why,  I  shall  be  able  to  set  up  a  great  library,  and  lend  the 
books  to  be  dog's-eared  and  marked  with  bread-crumbs." 

Esther  said,  laughing,  "  You  think  you  are  to  do  everything. 
You  don't  know  how  clever  I  am.  I  mean  to  go  on  teaching  a 
great  many  things." 

"  Teaching  me  ?  " 

"  Oh  yes,"  she  said,  with  a  little  toss  ;  "  I  shall  improve  your 
French  accent." 

"  You  won't  want  me  to  wear  a  stock,"  said  Felix,  with  a 
defiant  shake  of  the  head. 


490  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  EADICAL. 

"  No ;  and  you  will  not  attribute  stupid  thoughts  to  me  be- 
fore I  've  uttered  them." 

They  laughed  merrily,  each  holding  the  other's  arms,  like 
girl  and  boy.  There  was  the  ineffable  sense  of  youth  in 
common. 

Then  Felix  leaned  forward,  that  their  lips  might  meet  again, 
and  after  that  his  eyes  roved  tenderly  over  her  face  and  curls. 

"  I  'm  a  rough,  severe  fellow,  Esther.  Shall  you  never 
repent  ?  —  never  be  inwardly  reproaching  me  that  I  was  not 
a  man  who  could  have  shared  your  wealth  ?  Are  you  quite 
sure  ?  " 

"Quite  sure!"  said  Esther,  shaking  her  head;  "for  then 
I  should  have  honored  you  less.  I  am  weak  —  my  husband 
must  be  greater  and  nobler  than  I  am." 

"Oh,  I  tell  you  what,  though!"  said  Felix,  starting  up, 
thrusting  his  hands  into  his  pockets,  and  creasing  his  brow 
playfully,  "  if  you  take  me  in  that  way  I  shall  be  forced  to  be 
a  much  better  fellow  than  I  ever  thought  of  being." 

"  I  call  that  retribution,"  said  Esther,  with  a  laugh  as  sweet 
as  the  morning  thrush. 


EPILOGUE. 

Onr  finest  hope  is  finest  memory ; 

And  those  who  love  in  age  think  youth  is  happy, 

Because  it  has  a  life  to  fill  with  love. 

THE  very  next  May,  Felix  and  Esther  were  married.  Every 
one  in  those  days  was  married  at  the  parish  church ;  but  Mr. 
Lyon  was  not  satisfied  without  an  additional  private  solem- 
nity, "wherein  there  was  no  bondage  to  questionable  forms, 
so  that  he  might  have  a  more  enlarged  utterance  of  joy  and 
supplication." 

It  was  a  very  simple  wedding;  but  no  wedding,  even  the 
gayest,  ever  raised  so  much  interest  and  debate  in  Treby 
Magna.  Even  very  great  people,  like  Sir  Maximus  and  his 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  491 

family,  went  to  the  church  to  look  at  this  bride,  who  had  re- 
nounced wealth,  and  chosen  to  be  the  wife  of  a  man  who  said 
he  would  always  be  poor. 

Some  few  shook  their  heads;  could  not  quite  believe  it; 
and  thought  there  was  "more  behind."  But  the  majority  of 
honest  Trebians  were  affected  somewhat  in  the  same  way  as 
happy-looking  Mr.  Wace  was,  who  observed  to  his  wife,  as 
they  walked  from  under  the  churchyard  chestnuts,  "  It  'a 
wonderful  how  things  go  through  you  —  you  don't  know  how. 
I  feel  somehow  as  if  I  believed  more  in  everything  that's 
good." 

Mrs.  Holt,  that  day,  said  she  felt  herself  to  be  receiving 
"some  reward,"  implying  that  justice  certainly  had  much  more 
in  reserve.  Little  Job  Tudge  had  an  entirely  new  suit,  of 
which  he  fingered  every  separate  brass  button  in  a  way  that 
threatened  an  arithmetical  mania  ;  and  Mrs.  Holt  had  out  her 
best  tea-trays  and  put  down  her  carpet  again,  with  the  satis- 
faction of  thinking  that  there  would  no  more  be  boys  coming 
in  all  weathers  with  dirty  shoes. 

For  Felix  and  Esther  did  not  take  up  their  abode  in  Treby 
Magna ;  and  after  a  while  Mr.  Lyon  left  the  town  too,  and 
joined  them  where  they  dwelt.  On  his  resignation  the  church 
in  Malthouse  Yard  chose  a  successor  to  him  whose  doctrine 
was  rather  higher. 

There  were  other  departures  from  Treby.  Mr.  Jermyn's 
establishment  was  broken  up,  and  he  was  understood  to  have 
gone  to  reside  at  a  great  distance  :  some  said  "  abroad,"  that 
large  home  of  ruined  reputations.  Mr.  Johnson  continued 
blond  and  sufficiently  prosperous  till  he  got  gray  and  rather 
more  prosperous.  Some  persons,  who  did  not  think  highly 
of  him,  held  that  his  prosperity  was  a  fact  to  be  kept  in  the 
background,  as  being  dangerous  to  the  morals  of  the  young ; 
judging  that  it  was  not  altogether  creditable  to  the  Divine 
Providence  that  anything  but  virtue  should  be  rewarded  by  a 
front  and  back  drawing-room  in  Bedford  Row. 

As  for  Mr.  Christian,  he  had  no  more  profitable  secrets  at 
his  disposal.  But  he  got  his  thousand  pounds  from  Harold 
Transome. 


492  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL. 

The  Transome  family  were  absent  for  some  time  from  Tran- 
some  Court.  The  place  was  kept  up  and  shown  to  visitors, 
but  not  by  Denner,  who  was  away  with  her  mistress.  After  a 
while  the  family  came  back,  and  Mrs.  Transome  died  there. 
Sir  Maximus  was  at  her  funeral,  and  throughout  that  neigh- 
borhood there  was  silence  about  the  past. 

Uncle  Lingon  continued  to  watch  over  the  shooting  on  the 
Manor  and  the  covers  until  that  event  occurred  which  he  had 
predicted  as  a  part  of  church  reform  sure  to  come.  Little 
Treby  had  a  new  rector,  but  others  were  sorry  besides  the  old 
pointers. 

As  to  all  that  wide  parish  of  Treby  Magna,  it  has  since  pros- 
pered as  the  rest  of  England  has  prospered.  Doubtless  there 
is  more  enlightenment  now.  Whether  the  farmers  are  all 
public-spirited,  the  shopkeepers  nobly  independent,  the  Sprox- 
ton  men  entirely  sober  and  judicious,  the  Dissenters  quite 
without  narrowness  or  asperity  in  religion  and  politics,  and 
the  publicans  all  fit,  like  Gaius,  to  be  the  friends  of  an  apostle 
—  these  things  I  have  not  heard,  not  having  correspondence 
in  those  parts.  Whether  any  presumption  may  be  drawn  from 
the  fact  that  North  Loamshire  does  not  yet  return  a  Radical 
candidate,  I  leave  to  the  all-wise  —  I  mean  the  newspapers. 

As  to  the  town  in  which  Felix  Holt  now  resides,  I  will  keep 
that  a  secret,  lest  he  should  be  troubled  by  any  visitor  having 
the  insufferable  motive  of  curiosity. 

I  will  only  say  that  Esther  has  never  repented.  Felix,  how- 
ever, grumbles  a  little  that  she  has  made  his  life  too  easy,  and 
that,  if  it  were  not  for  much  walking,  he  should  be  a  sleek 
dog. 

There  is  a  young  Felix,  who  has  a  great  deal  more  science 
than  his  father,  but  not  much  more  money. 


THE  END. 


University  Press,  Cambridge :  John  Wilson  &  Son. 


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